From May to November 2024, my life became a cycle of applications, hopes, silences and refusals.
I applied for more than 150 jobs during that period. That number still feels almost unreal when I look back on it. It was not for lack of experience, not for lack of effort, and certainly not for lack of willingness.
I applied widely, carefully, and often with a genuine belief that I was capable of doing the roles well. Usually, this belief was based upon the reality that I have been successful doing roles similar to that in the past, or because I has strategically planned for the roles, written job descriptions for the role, and managed people doing that role. I only ever applied for roles where I was very familiar with the work.
What came back, more often than not, was nothing.
That is one of the most draining features of the modern job market: not even rejection, but absence. Application after application vanishes into the system, often without acknowledgement, let alone meaningful feedback. When you are carrying the pressure of a separated family and the ticking clock of a visa requirement, that silence becomes more than frustrating. It becomes demoralising.
Out of all those applications, I had only three interviews. All three were unsuccessful.
Only one employer offered any feedback at all. It was, in its own way, almost surreal: “The panel unanimously agrees, you bring more to the role than the job requires.”
On paper, that may sound flattering. In reality, it was hard to know what to do with it. Overqualified is a peculiar kind of rejection. It does not put food on the table. It does not satisfy the Minimum Income Requirement. It does not bring your wife and child any closer….and what can one do about it?
It simply leaves you wondering how experience, which is supposed to be an asset, can sometimes become a barrier.
Those months were deeply demoralising. There is no point pretending otherwise. It is exhausting enough to search for work when you are settled and secure. It is something else entirely when every unsuccessful application feels tied to your family’s future. Each rejection was not just about career disappointment. It seemed to delay the day when we could live together again.
And yet, beneath the discouragement, something more stubborn remained. I could not afford the luxury of giving up.
So I kept applying. Kept adjusting. Kept trying to be pragmatic. Kept reminding myself that the aim was not prestige, or even perfect alignment with my past experience. The aim was to rebuild an income, establish stability, and move one step closer to the visa application that would allow my family to join me.
In that sense, the job search changed me. It stripped away a great deal of ego. It taught me again that survival often requires humility. And it showed me how many people in this country, entirely unseen, are fighting the same quiet battles with systems that rarely explain themselves.
Those months were hard. But they were also part of the foundation.
Lloyd Hobbard-Mitchell
The Rest of the Diary of an Estranged Briton
When Politics Hits Home This is the first post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
The Day I Left This is the second post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
The Search for Work This is the third post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
Held Together by Others This is the forth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
Driving to Stand Still This is the fifth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
Building Stability in Support This is the sixth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
The Quiet Before This is the seventh post in our ‘Diary of an estranged Briton’,…
The System Reveals This is the eighth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged Briton’,…
The Day of Submission This is the ninth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged…
The Waiting This is the tenth post in our ‘Diary of an estranged Briton’, detailing…
The Cost of Provinga Family This is the eleventh post in our ‘Diary of an…
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