There are a lot of disappointed people walking around at the moment.

There are a lot of disappointed people walking around at the moment.

Some of them will tell you all about it. They’ll post on LinkedIn about the 200 applications they’ve sent, the interview process that got to stage five, the promotion they missed out on, or the contract that wasn’t renewed.

Others won’t tell you at all. They’ll turn up to work, answer their emails, look after their kids, catch up with friends and carry on as though everything is fine. You wouldn’t know it to look at them, but they’re hurting. They might be frustrated, angry, embarrassed, exhausted or quietly questioning what the hell they’re doing wrong.

Career disappointment comes in all sorts of forms. You can be the person who has effectively been doing the job already, only to miss out when the permanent position comes up. You can get through four or five stages of an interview, start picturing yourself in the role and then get pipped at the post. You can be the person who has been there the longest and works incredibly hard, but still doesn’t get the recognition or the seat at the table. You can have a contract you thought had some longevity suddenly come to an end.

I’ve experienced my fair share of it too. I’ve acted in senior roles and ultimately not secured the position. I’ve been pipped to the post in the market. And, despite what my business Instagram might occasionally suggest, not every person who has a Connection Call with me goes on to become a client. I don’t win every piece of work I put forward for, and not every contract gets renewed or extended.

It still stings.

Sometimes we forget that disappointment is part of having a career. If you’re invested in something, of course you’re going to care about the outcome. In fact, I’d question a goal that meant so little to you that you felt nothing when you didn’t achieve it.

We want our goals to matter. We want to care about the work we do and the opportunities we pursue. So when something doesn’t go our way, feeling disappointed, frustrated or even bloody devastated isn't necessarily a sign that we're lacking resilience. It can simply be evidence that we cared.

The challenge is not to avoid those feelings. It’s to allow ourselves to feel them, process them and, eventually, find the resilience to keep going.

Not everyone who is disappointed looks disappointed. Not everyone who is hurting talks about it. And sometimes, you really have no idea what someone else is carrying.

Not everything happens for a reason.

When something doesn’t work out, there’s a strong temptation to find a reason for it. We tell ourselves it wasn’t meant to be, that everything happens for a reason, or that something better will come along. Maybe it will. I hope it does.

But sometimes you simply didn’t get the job. Someone else was chosen. The promotion went to somebody else. The contract ended. The organisation changed direction. You were a strong candidate, but someone else was the better fit on the day.

Sometimes the outcome was about you. Your experience, your performance, your professional brand, your connections or the way you presented yourself. Those things are worth looking at honestly.

But sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes the decision was made before you even walked into the room. Sometimes there was an internal candidate. Sometimes the budget disappeared. Sometimes the organisation changed its mind. Sometimes someone else just got the nod.

It can be incredibly hard to accept that, particularly when you’ve invested a lot of yourself in the outcome. But you don't need to create a reason where there isn't one.

What I do believe is that there is nearly always something to learn.

Perhaps you learn something about the organisation, the role or the market. Perhaps you get feedback that changes how you approach the next opportunity. Perhaps you realise you need to strengthen your professional brand, build different connections or take a different approach.

Or perhaps you learn something about yourself. What matters to you. What you're prepared to compromise on. What you're not. What you actually want your next move to look like.

You don't have to find that lesson immediately. In fact, if you're still in the thick of the disappointment, I'd suggest you don't try.

Feel what you feel. Process what happened. Make your peace with it when you're ready.

You can accept that something didn't work out without deciding that it means you weren't good enough.

Not everything happens for a reason. But there is almost always something we can learn.

My five tips for dealing with a career setback.

If you’ve been knocked sideways by a career disappointment, there’s no magic formula for bouncing back. And I’m not particularly interested in bouncing back if that means pretending you’re fine when you’re not.

After more than a decade working with people through career transitions, setbacks, stalled progression and professional reinvention, these are some of the things I come back to when someone is trying to work out what to do after something hasn’t gone their way.

1. Feel the feels. Properly.

Don’t just stop at ‘I feel bad’ or ‘this feels shit’. Get underneath it. Is it frustration? Rage? Sadness? Fear? Embarrassment? Are you grieving the opportunity itself, or what you thought that opportunity was going to mean for you?

Really unpack it. Talk about it. Write about it. Feel it in all its ugliness. But don’t stay there indefinitely. The aim isn’t to circumvent the process. It’s to move through it.

2. Don’t make the outcome mean more than it does.

Sometimes there will be things you could have done differently. Your performance, your professional brand, your connections or the way you approached the opportunity might have played a part.

But sometimes the decision was largely outside your control. There may have been an internal candidate, a change in budget, a shift in organisational priorities or someone who was simply a better fit.

Look honestly at what happened, take responsibility for what is yours, and be careful about turning one outcome into a sweeping judgement about your capability or your worth.

3. Nourish yourself.

Disappointment can take a lot out of you. Grief, rage, anxiety, anger and uncertainty are exhausting, so don't underestimate the importance of looking after yourself while you're processing what has happened.

Move. Sweat. Walk. Hike. Get outside. Eat properly. Sleep. Do the things that help you feel more like yourself.

I’m a big believer that we can’t always think our way out of how we’re feeling. Sometimes we need to get back into our bodies and move some of that energy through.

4. Remind yourself why you’re so bloody great.

When something goes wrong, it’s very easy to become completely consumed by the thing you didn’t get and forget about everything you’ve already achieved.

This is where the right people matter. Talk to the former manager who knows what you’re capable of. Call the mentor who has seen you at your best. Talk to the friend who genuinely knows you and can remind you of the problems you’ve solved, the things you’ve achieved and the value you’ve brought.

I’m not talking about generic ‘you’re amazing!’ sympathy from someone who barely knows what you do. I want evidence. Sometimes you need someone who knows your professional worth to hold up the mirror and remind you of what you can’t see when you’re in the thick of it.

5. Know when to invest in the expert.

Sometimes you need your people. Sometimes you need time. And sometimes you need someone who can help you work out what you can’t see for yourself.

That might be coaching. It might be professional branding support, help with your CV or interview approach, or simply an experienced outside perspective to help you work out what your options actually are.

There is no prize for struggling on your own. Knowing when you need help isn't a failure of resilience. Sometimes it’s the thing that helps you stop going around in circles and start moving forward again.

The aim isn’t to bounce back as quickly as possible. It’s to process what happened, look after yourself, learn what you can and get yourself into a position where you can decide what comes next.

Keep going doesn't mean keep doing the same thing.

When something hasn't worked out, ‘keep going’ can sound like a fairly straightforward instruction. Try again. Send another application. Go for the next promotion. Have another interview. Keep putting yourself out there.

And sometimes that is exactly what you need to do.

But sometimes it isn't.

I've worked with people who have spent months, sometimes years, pursuing the same role, the same type of organisation or the same career path because they've started to believe that changing direction means they've failed.

It doesn't. You can be committed to a goal without being wedded to one particular route to get there.

Keeping going might mean trying again. It might mean changing your strategy, getting some feedback, strengthening your professional brand, building different connections or looking at opportunities you hadn't previously considered. It might mean taking a bloody good break because you're exhausted and need to get your head back in the game.

And sometimes it might mean deciding that the goal you were so determined to achieve isn't actually the right goal for you anymore.

I was reminded of this recently when a client missed out on an opportunity that was particularly hard to take. He had essentially done the job before, in that organisation, and had every reason to believe he was a strong contender.

When he found out he hadn't been successful, he said to me, ‘I just don't know how much more I can take of this.’

I understood. When you've been putting yourself out there repeatedly and getting knocked back, resilience can start to feel like an endless demand to pick yourself up and have another go.

But resilience isn't about blindly repeating the same behaviour and hoping eventually someone says yes.

The question isn't always ‘How do I keep going?’ Sometimes the better question is ‘What does keeping going look like now?’

Maybe it's another application. Maybe it's a different kind of application. Maybe it's having a conversation with someone who can open a door. Maybe it's taking some time out. Maybe it's changing direction.

The goal is to remain committed to what matters to you, as long as it still matters.

You don't have to remain loyal to a plan simply because you made it six months ago, or because you've already invested so much in it.

There is a difference between giving up and changing course. Sometimes changing course is exactly how you keep going.

Sometimes you don't need a five-year plan. You just need to work out what's next.

One of the hardest things about a career setback is that it can make the future feel much smaller. You didn't get the role you wanted. The promotion didn't happen. Your contract wasn't renewed. You've been applying for months and getting nowhere. Or perhaps you've simply reached the point where you know something needs to change, but you have absolutely no idea what that change should be.

When you're in that space, it can feel as though you need to figure everything out before you can make a move. What should I do next? Should I stay? Should I leave? Do I need a completely new career? Am I making the right decision?

After a setback, I often see people trying to answer those enormous questions when they're exhausted and disappointed. Sometimes the better place to start is much smaller.

What's the next conversation you need to have? Who do you need to speak to? What information are you missing? Is there a skill you need to develop, a connection you need to make or an opportunity you need to explore?

You don't need to have the whole route mapped out before you take the next step. And sometimes you don't need more time to think about it. You need another perspective.

After more than a decade working with people through career transitions, setbacks, stalled progression and professional reinvention, I've seen how much easier it can be to make good decisions when you have someone helping you separate the emotion from the facts, challenge the assumptions you're making and properly explore your options.

Sometimes you don't need someone to tell you what to do. You need someone who knows the territory, asks the questions you haven't thought to ask and helps you see what you can't see when you're too close to it.

That's a big part of what I do.

If you're sitting with a career disappointment, questioning whether to keep going or wondering whether it's time to change course, you don't need to have the answer before we talk.

A Connection Call gives us 30 minutes to talk through what's happening, where you're feeling stuck and what kind of support might help you work out what comes next. No pressure to have a plan. We can start exactly where you are.