It’s Never Too Late: Becoming My Own Boss

While some talk of pandemic pivots, I’ve likened my journey to a pirouette.

When I was young, I loved to run across random facts about famous people. Among my favorite trivia was learning what age they started the career that made them a household name. For example, Grandma Moses started painting in earnest at 78, and Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame didn’t franchise his first restaurant until age 62.

Now, as I rocket toward 60, I find myself with a similar opportunity to start something new professionally. Even if unlikely to join any lists of wildly successful post-50 career changers, I take comfort that age isn’t a limitation as I launch my business venture.

So how did an employment law attorney and human resources professional who had as much interest in being her own boss as she did repeatedly sticking a fork in her eye get to a place where the best is yet to be? Not entirely willingly, I can assure you. But sometimes, the Universe kicks you out the window it opened for you.

On a Friday in early May 2020, I bustled about preparing for a quarterly review. The bright sun streamed through the large picture window in my living room and brought the promise of a lovely weekend. Working from my kitchen table due to the pandemic, I had spent many 60+ hour weeks helping clients navigate their human resources issues in the wake of COVID-19. Unbeknownst to me, preparation for that call was the last work I’d ever do for the company.

Instead of a review, my boss laid me off. He cited business reasons related to the pandemic. And just like that, without warning, I joined millions on the unemployment line in the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression. I was numb from the news.

Now what? My prospects for immediate re-entry to a high-level corporate legal/HR job weren’t good given my age and that I was at the height of my career (read: expensive). Add in a flood of exceptionally talented jobseekers in my same predicament, and the employment picture looked grim. But stiff upper lip, and all, right? I started networking, redoing my resume, and applying for vacancies. All the while, I worked at contract jobs to make ends meet. They never did.

Months went by. A few promising interviews here, a good tip on a job-opening there, but they all fell flat. I ping-ponged from “it’ll be okay” to “there’s no hope” as desperation and doubt undermined my positive attitude leaving me sporadically weepy and irritable. For about eight months, I did the employment hokey pokey, one foot in my job search and the other in legal and HR consulting.

During this time, I kicked up my LinkedIn engagement by posting often. By doing so, I met a fantastic group of professional women, most of whom were attorneys experiencing coronavirus-related pivots. While they talked of bold new ventures leading their own businesses, I remained focused on getting back to the comfort of another corporate role. Well-meaning friends and family floated the idea of my working for myself when I cried on their shoulders about my unemployment woes. I just scoffed, saying I didn’t want the headache of getting clients, figuring out health insurance, or handling my taxes. My disdain for self-employment led me to adamantly proclaim in a post that garnered more than 8,000 views that “Not everyone on LinkedIn wants to be an entrepreneur!”

Just a few weeks after that post, I served myself a hefty heaping dose of crow when I abandoned my job search to BMOB (be my own boss). My about-face left many, me included, whiplashed. Just what had happened? After a grueling 50 plus hour week of juggling four different contract jobs, half of which paid well under my typical rate, I opened an email from the recruiter on a job that I was perfect for and expected a second interview. Instead, it was the dreaded “form” kiss-off of “we’re going in a different direction.” I received such emails in the past, but this one from a recruiter so inexperienced that she still had McDonalds crewmember on her professional profile changed everything. As my husband calls it, I had reached the point of Popeye: “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more.”

With that sign from the Universe, coupled with having solved the issue of health insurance by running it through my husband’s small business, the clouds parted, the angels sang, and the scales dropped from my eyes. Instead of turning away consulting opportunities to spend time job hunting (yes, I did that in my stubbornness to avoid change), I stopped being pulled in two directions and embraced doing my own thing. And with that, Above the Rim HR was born.

The business name reflects my commitment to excellence and what clients can expect when they engage me. Plus, I had adopted #kimabovetherim as a personal branding hashtag after my layoff, so it seemed the Universe was delivering once again. Since announcing my new venture, referrals landed me a few clients, and I have steady legal work as well. By the second quarter, it appears that revenue will be on track with my pre-COVID-19 salary.

While some talk of pandemic pivots, I’ve likened my journey to a pirouette. I danced circles around entrepreneurship for many months. Not doing it sooner is my only regret. Who knows? I might make one of those late-in-life success stories lists yet.