For the first nine months of 2013, I did not have a job in sports communications.
On paper, it looked like a gap.
No institution beside my name.
No games to cover.
No statistics to compile.
No stories to write.
No title explaining where I belonged.
But that gap was not empty.
It was filled with applications, coursework, books, faith, relationships and the support of people who refused to let me give up on myself.
Unemployment Can Make You Question Your Value
When someone asks, “What do you do?” they are usually asking about your job.
That question becomes uncomfortable when you do not have one.
For years, I had connected much of my identity to sports communications. It was what I did, but over time, it also became part of how I described who I was.
When the job disappeared, part of my confidence went with it.
I applied for more than 80 positions during those nine months. Each application carried the possibility of returning to the profession. Each rejection—or complete lack of a response—made me wonder whether sports communications had moved on without me.
That is one of the hidden dangers of unemployment.
The financial pressure is real, but the damage to your confidence can become just as serious. You start treating a hiring decision as a judgment of your value.
It is not.
A job title explains your current position. It does not determine your worth.
Applying Was Necessary, but It Was Not Enough
Sending more applications felt productive.
Sometimes it was. Other times, it was simply the easiest way to tell myself I was doing something.
Applying for more than 80 jobs sounds impressive until you ask harder questions:
Was I becoming a stronger candidate?
Was I learning anything new?
Was I improving how I presented my experience?
Was I preparing for where the profession was going, or only trying to return to where it had been?
Effort matters, but effort without adjustment can become repetition.
I needed more than another application.
I needed to grow professionally, mentally and spiritually.
I Went Back to the Classroom
During those nine months, I took courses in social media design and human resources.
Those choices may have seemed outside traditional sports information work at the time. But the profession was changing. Social media was becoming a larger part of how athletic departments communicated. Understanding people, organizations and workplace practices also had value beyond any single job description.
The courses gave me new knowledge, but they gave me something else that was just as important: momentum.
I could not control whether an employer called me.
I could control whether I learned something that day.
I could not force someone to offer me a position.
I could become better prepared for the next opportunity.
Learning gave me a way to measure progress when the job search was not producing the results I wanted.
I Found Guidance in Books
Some of my most important lessons during that season did not come from a classroom.
They came from books.
The writings of Jon Gordon had a major influence on me, especially The Carpenter and The Seed.
Those books helped me think differently about purpose, relationships, service and the seasons of life when progress is happening beneath the surface. A seed does not appear to be doing much while it is underground. But with the right conditions, roots are forming long before anything breaks through the soil.
That was a lesson I needed.
My career did not appear to be growing in 2013. From the outside, it looked stalled. But beneath the surface, I was being challenged to develop stronger roots.
John Maxwell’s Failing Forward was also instrumental in changing how I viewed rejection.
Failure did not have to become a permanent address. It could become information.
Every rejection could either convince me to stop or teach me how to adjust. I could spend my energy asking why life was being unfair, or I could ask what the experience was trying to teach me.
That did not make rejection painless. It made rejection useful.
The books did not magically produce a job offer. They helped shape the mindset I needed to keep going until one arrived.
I Did Not Rebuild Alone
There is a dangerous idea that strong people should be able to pull themselves out of difficult seasons without help.
That sounds tough. It is also wrong.
During this period, I became involved with a men’s group through church.
That group gave me community, accountability and a place where my employment status did not have to be the center of every conversation. I was surrounded by men who could encourage me, challenge me and remind me that my life still had meaning outside a job title.
Faith did not remove the uncertainty. It gave me a stronger foundation for facing it.
We often talk about professional development as if it only happens through conferences, courses and certifications. Sometimes growth happens when people sit with us during difficult moments and remind us of truths we have temporarily forgotten.
That group became part of my preparation.
Returning Home Was Different This Time
Throughout those nine months, I lived in the same house where I had spent my teenage years.
It was the first time I had lived at home since my father passed away in 2009.
The house was familiar, but it did not feel the same.
My dad was no longer there.
I was dealing with professional uncertainty while also living in a place filled with memories of him. Home offered safety, but it also reminded me of what—and who—was missing.
Through all of it, my mother gave me unwavering support.
She gave me more than a place to stay. She gave me room to regroup without making me feel like my circumstances had reduced my value. When I questioned what would happen next, she remained steady.
At a time when I could easily have viewed returning home as moving backward, her support helped make it a place where I could prepare to move forward.
Sometimes the strongest person in your rebuilding season is not the one with the perfect advice. It is the person who continues believing in you when your own belief has become unsteady.
For me, that person was my mother.
A Résumé Gap Is Not the Whole Story
Employers may see dates on a résumé and ask what happened between them.
That is a fair question.
The answer should not be an apology.
A gap can include caregiving, grief, recovery, education, freelance work, volunteering, family responsibilities or a difficult job search. It can also include moments when getting through the day was an accomplishment by itself.
My gap included more than 80 applications.
It included coursework in social media design and human resources.
It included lessons from Jon Gordon and John Maxwell.
It included faith and the support of a men’s group through church.
It included living at home for the first time since losing my father.
It included the unwavering support of my mother.
It included rejection, reflection, preparation and growth.
None of that appeared beside a job title, but all of it shaped the person who eventually returned to the profession.
Do Not Waste the Waiting
Waiting does not have to mean standing still.
If you are between opportunities, ask yourself:
What skill keeps appearing in the jobs I want?
What am I reading that challenges the way I think?
Who is holding me accountable?
Who can give me honest feedback?
Am I isolating myself when I should be asking for help?
What part of my professional story am I struggling to explain?
What can I create, learn or improve this week?
You do not need to fill every minute with activity to prove you are working hard. Rest may be part of what you need.
But do not allow disappointment to make every decision for you.
Take one course.
Read one book.
Attend one group.
Make one call.
Reconnect with one former colleague.
Accept help from someone who cares about you.
Submit one thoughtful application instead of five rushed ones.
Progress does not always arrive with an offer letter.
Sometimes it looks like becoming more prepared than you were yesterday.
The Door Eventually Opened
In September 2013, I returned to sports communications at LeTourneau University.
The opportunity did not erase the previous nine months. It gave them new meaning.
The waiting had tested me.
The rejection had humbled me.
The coursework had developed me.
The books had challenged my thinking.
The men’s group had strengthened my faith and surrounded me with support.
My mother had given me a steady place from which to rebuild.
The entire experience taught me that forward movement does not always look like a promotion, a new title or a larger paycheck.
Sometimes forward movement happens quietly, long before anyone else can see it.
If you are facing a gap in your résumé, do not let an empty line convince you that nothing valuable is happening.
Your current situation may not be where you want to stay. But it can still become a place where you learn, adjust, heal and prepare.
A gap only tells people where you were not employed.
It does not tell them what you survived.
It does not tell them what you read.
It does not tell them who stood beside you.
It does not tell them how your faith was strengthened.
It does not tell them how you grew.
Most importantly, it does not get to decide where you go next.
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