I swapped a career path I was building (what I thought was my “dream job”) for relative stability and a sense of purpose. Was it worth it?

After a few years in academia, I started dreaming about Data Science. I managed to break into the field and stayed there for five years. Technically, I was very satisfied. Every now and then, I’d question the “bigger reason” behind the work, but it was never enough to truly bother me.

For reasons I still don’t fully understand, I decided to take a specific public service exam at the end of that period. It was a promise my “past self” made—that if the opportunity ever came up again, I’d try.

Long story short: I started a government job. It wasn’t my first choice, nor is it “officially” in the data field. It’s worth noting that this position offers stability—not absolute, but significant. And, of course, there’s the purpose: serving the public, especially those most in need. But to be perfectly honest, that wasn’t the reason I changed.

It felt reasonable to at least try. I knew the regret of not trying would be much worse later on.

This decision didn’t just impact my career; it upended my personal life. I had to move cities and completely change my (our) family routine. The first month was rough—lots of anxiety, poor sleep, and endless questioning.

Months later, the anxiety has faded, but the questions remain. So, what have I learned so far?

Personal Life

We are still adapting. To be honest, it’s tough not living with my spouse anymore and losing that daily connection. We spend weekends together, but not all of them, since it involves a few hours of travel and can be exhausting depending on the week.

On the other side, I’m in a bigger city now (is this an advantage??). While it brings challenges, like traffic and safety being the main ones for me at least, it also offers more “stuff”. The city “rewards” you for the hassle by keeping you entertained.

There’s more culture, leisure, and sports for sure. I am aware that I am only entertaining myself, and we could be living better in another place (but that’s not an option for me right now).

Professional Life

This is where things get harder to analyze clearly. I still feel a bit restless about having “officially” left the data field. I say “officially” because, in reality, working with data is a necessity in almost any role today, and it sure is in this role I am right now.

I have something many crave (and others look down upon): relative job stability. I wasn’t specifically looking for it, which sounds contradictory since I took the exam. But I only did it for this specific role because of that promise I made to myself ten years ago.

While market instability used to worry me, I never had a truly bad experience in the private sector. Maybe that’s why I still feel like stability wasn’t my main goal. I still have the drive to study, learn, and create, but I know the market is becoming increasingly cruel, especially as we get older.

Some argue that stability makes people “lazy.” It’s not a completely baseless argument, but the reality I see now is much more complex. People need incentives to move forward, but I don’t think the way the market currently does it is fair or even human.

The more technical side

I often find myself reading data articles, keeping up with tech trends, and trying to make sense of the moment we’re living in.

I’ve started writing small and simple technical pieces about my current routine as a way to stay close to the field. I want to improve this, to write more often and find my own voice. I used to struggle with the idea that I should only write technical stuff, but now I see I can move between both worlds.

I’m even starting another postgraduate program in Geoprocessing. It’s a huge part of my current work, so I jumped at the chance to deepen my knowledge. I’ve even had some consulting opportunities pop up, which is very rewarding! since this is a result of my “official” time working in Data Science.

Still, I often feel like I’ve “lost” something. It feels irrational, given how uncertain the tech market is right now. Like many, I feel like we’re watching the start of a tsunami, and we have no idea what will be left standing when it passes.

I try to balance this by looking at the positives of my current position, but the feeling persists.

What’s next?

In the short term, I’ll stay where I am, but with a bit more clarity and patience. I’ll keep going, trying to get the best out of this experience.

And as for tomorrow? None of us really know what it holds.