• I was accepted into a Ph.D. in economics program, which was a dream come true.
• But I was also offered a job at a startup that excited me, so I took the offer.
• The startup folded, and I'm unsure if I regretted the decision.

When I received an email saying I had been accepted into the university of my choice for a Ph.D. program, I cried.

Furthering my education had always been an important goal for me, but it was one I didn't achieve easily. I battled Graves' disease through my early college years, which meant I was in and out of the classroom. I constantly played catch-up, and never thought I'd graduate. Understandably, the thought of enrolling in a Ph.D. economics program was a dream come true.

I'm a forward thinker, so I started imagining my interactions with my professors and what kind of thesis I'd work on. Although the annual tuition fees would put a great dent in my pocket, I was determined to work for it. I would have to strike a balance between school, family, and side hustles.

But then I got an offer I couldn't refuse.

My friend was working on an intriguing startup idea

While I was still planning for my program that was meant to begin in early fall, I met a friend who talked to me about a startup company he started and was taking off faster than he could keep up. It was exhilarating, and he thought I'd benefit from the experience.

The company wanted to disrupt financial access in underserved economies, and it was doing everything from product development and data modeling to pitching investors.

This friend had always been a dreamer and succeeded in most things he put his mind to. As he assured me, the startup wouldn't be an exception, especially because he had channeled all his savings toward it.

However, he wanted to bring me on board because I had an analytical background in economics. To be honest, the pay he suggested wasn't great, but the opportunity was stellar with potential for growth in skills and finances. My role would involve leveraging my skills in data analysis and understanding market dynamics.

He suggested I take some time to think about it.

I decided to take the job offer

I went back home and spent the majority of my time online looking through the company pages and comparing them to others that were thriving in the same field. It looked promising, and I wanted to be part of something great.

However, the team required someone who would work in the office full time, and logically, I wouldn't be able to be present for classes and work at the same time.

After a lot of back and forth, I thought working for the company was a one-time opportunity, and I was leaning toward it.

I looked up deferral programs and decided to consult with my school to seek their opinion on deferring my course for a year or two and then rejoining. The department didn't have deferrals, and the dean advised against it.

But the faculty told me that I could reapply a year later. I thought, if I was accepted once, I could be accepted again, so I started working for the startup.

The job didn't pan out as I expected

Everything was great in the first half of my work year. We embraced a team spirit, brought a few clients on board, and were on a steady path to growth. However, somewhere in the middle, we lost the plot.

We struggled to fit some of the company's products into a market that wasn't ready, and, most importantly, we faced a severe lack of funding.

After a long time of trying everything we could, the startup folded.

Looking back on my decision

I had mixed feelings about turning down school. In some ways, I feel like a failure. I was depressed and sunk deep into hopelessness. I haven't reapplied to my Ph.D. program yet, and I'm not sure I will anytime soon.

In hindsight, walking away from an opportunity to further my studies so I could join a startup was a risk, but it was also a rewarding experience in itself. I gained immense experience and made connections I wouldn't have made in academia.

I learned what it means to build something from the ground up, even if it doesn't work out.

• My 2-year-old grandson, King, died in an accident as I was achieving major career milestones.
• The loss forced me to confront how I had been using external achievements.
• Through my grief, I learned what true success in life really means.

The call came while I was in the middle of producing a groundbreaking documentary sanctioned by the Napoleon Hill Foundation. I had also just been featured in Forbes. Everything in my career was accelerating exactly as I had planned.

Then came the news that shattered everything.

King, my 2-year-old grandson, had drowned in a tragic accident. The little boy who would stop whatever he was doing to run into my arms, whose face lit up every time he saw me, was gone.

I felt like an anvil had fallen on my chest. Every step I took felt heavy, and the more it sank in, the more I wanted to leap out of my body from the pain. My chest was heavy and I couldn't breathe. It was instant trauma and a shock to my nervous system that left me gasping for air.

But that grief taught me something valuable.

My grandson meant the world to me

My first thought was denial. He's so young. I was just with him. How could this have happened?

Just one month earlier, I had sent King and my daughter back to California. When their flight was delayed, King held onto my neck like he didn't want to let go before boarding. I never expected that would be the last time I would hold him.

King wasn't just any child to me. Our relationship was magical. When I would play meditation music by the group Beautiful Chorus, he would hear just the first tone and stop whatever he was doing to come sit on my lap and sing with me. He was even on key. When he stayed at my house, we would sing together, play the African drum, and he would dance while I cooked. We would laugh until our bellies hurt.

The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, producing a documentary about mothers who had overcome adversity to find success, and I was suddenly facing one of my greatest adversities.

I forced myself to sit with the pain of loss

I didn't use work as anesthesia. Instead, I allowed myself to feel everything without grabbing any vices as coping mechanisms. It was painful. My nervous system wouldn't allow me to rest, and when I did sleep, I woke up thinking about King.

The grief forced me to confront a fundamental truth: I had been building my identity on things completely outside my control. I realized that only the ego would allow me to believe that tomorrow is promised to me or anyone I love.

I couldn't run from the pain. I had to use the tools I had been building through plant medicine, meditation, breathwork, and stillness to sit with it and find peace with knowing there was nothing I could have done to prevent this.

My grief helped me better understand success

Before King's death, my definition of success was entirely external. Success looked like closing deals, taking meetings, and speaking at events. It was anything that fed my ego. I was chasing vanity metrics, using achievements to mask deeper insecurities I hadn't yet faced.

But when I lost King, none of that mattered — the Forbes feature, the Napoleon Hill Foundation project, and the speaking engagements. All of it felt meaningless in the face of this devastating loss.

I started understanding that true success wasn't about external validation. It was about healing trauma, facing my shadows, and addressing my addictions.

I know for a fact that if I hadn't been doing deep inner work before this happened, I would have been completely broken. The preventive inner work I had done gave me the tools I needed to process this unimaginable loss.

I now realize that inner work before something happens is the only way to have the tools needed to process the curveballs life throws at you with full impact.

King's death revealed the most resilient part of me. The part that won't quit, even in the face of unbearable loss. He taught me that true success isn't measured in Forbes features or foundation partnerships. It's measured in our capacity to love deeply, heal authentically, and find meaning even in our darkest moments.

Every time I hear that first tone from Beautiful Chorus, I remember my grandson's voice singing with mine, perfectly on key, and I'm reminded that the most important successes in life can't be quantified on any business metric.

• After taking a career break, I had to jump back into the job market.
• I used ChatGPT to find open roles, write my résumé and cover letter, and prepare for interviews.
• I landed my dream job in AI, making it a full-circle moment.

After a well-deserved career break, I decided it was time to look for a new job. The only problem was that I had last done this 10 years ago, and job hunting was a completely different game then.

In 2025, everything has changed, from how roles are advertised to how candidates are evaluated. LinkedIn isn't just an optional platform anymore. It's seemingly essential. Companies are using automated systems to screen résumés, and social media presence matters more than ever. The landscape has drastically changed, becoming more digital and competitive than ever before.

Facing this entirely new scenario was daunting. The old rules didn't apply, and the anxiety of navigating this new environment quickly set in. I realized I needed help, something or someone, to guide me through these uncharted waters.

I decided to adapt using the very technology shaping the new job market: AI.

Embracing AI to redefine my career path

After years of working as a lawyer, embracing AI felt like venturing into foreign territory, but it also felt exciting. I'd read countless stories about people using AI for everything from meal planning to writing novels, but I wondered how effective it could be for finding a job.

My first step was to have an in-depth conversation with ChatGPT to help identify exactly what I wanted next in my career. After a much-needed career break, I knew I wanted something that bridged my interests in technology and law, but the specifics were blurry.

Through a lengthy dialogue with the AI, during which we discussed my strengths, interests, and professional goals, I was able to clarify exactly what I was looking for. ChatGPT helped me pinpoint roles that sat neatly at the intersection of legal practice and emerging technologies, creating a tailored shortlist of companies and positions that genuinely excited me.

Leveraging AI for résumés, cover letters, and interviews

Armed with this newfound clarity, it was time to get practical. I turned again to ChatGPT, this time for help with polishing my résumé, crafting standout cover letters, and preparing for interviews.

Starting with my résumé, I fed ChatGPT my old document alongside descriptions of the roles I was targeting. Within minutes, it transformed my résumé into a crisp, impactful summary of my professional achievements. It suggested action-oriented language and quantified outcomes, things I hadn't thought to highlight on my own. My previously bland document suddenly felt dynamic and compelling, accurately reflecting my experience and capabilities.

Next, I tackled the dreaded cover letters. Each application felt like writing a small autobiography, a tedious task I usually procrastinated endlessly on. With ChatGPT, the experience transformed. I provided basic details about the role and why I was interested, and the AI-generated, polished, tailored cover letters genuinely sounded like me, only better. Minor tweaks aside, the AI-driven drafts were ready to send out immediately, saving me countless hours of stress and editing.

Then came mock interviews. ChatGPT proved invaluable here, simulating realistic interview scenarios and offering insightful feedback on my responses. It didn't just spit out generic interview questions. It tailored them specifically to each role, asking about industry trends, hypothetical scenarios, and even personal motivations. The AI coached me through my answers, helping me refine my responses to ensure they were concise, authentic, and impactful.

Landing the ideal job: Full circle with AI

The impact of these preparations was swift and substantial. Within just two months of starting this tech-driven job hunt, I secured a role at a cutting-edge tech company developing AI specifically designed for lawyers. It felt surreal yet perfectly aligned. After all, my journey began and ended with artificial intelligence.

This role wasn't just a paycheck. It was a full-circle moment, merging my long-standing passion for law with my newly sparked enthusiasm for technology.

Would I use AI to job hunt again? Absolutely. In fact, I can't imagine tackling such a stressful process without it. AI didn't just streamline tedious tasks. It empowered me to present myself authentically and strategically in a fiercely competitive market. It took the overwhelm out of job hunting, making the process not only manageable but surprisingly enjoyable.

In a world increasingly defined by technology, leveraging AI in your career search isn't just clever. It's becoming essential.

Whether you're pivoting careers, re-entering the workforce, or just exploring new opportunities, AI could be the ally you never knew you needed. For me, embracing AI was the smartest professional decision I made in years, proving that sometimes the best way to adapt to change is to lean into it fully.