If you follow me on social media at all, then you will have been privy to some exciting news that I announced this week. On Monday, I received an offical job offer for a copywriting position at an online health company based in South London. Eeek, a real writing job!
For those of you who may not been in the know of what it actually entails, copywriting is written content communicated through online channels or traditional print media, primarily used for the purposes of advertising or marketing. Since I’ll be delving into online marketing, one of my many responsibilities in my new role will be trying to achieve higher rankings in search engines for the websites I’ll be working. I’ll be relying on ‘organic’ search engine optimization (SEO), a practice which involves strategic placement and repetition of keywords or phrases, but treading the delicate balance of making it look natural and not forced. The goal for the average copywriter is to create engaging content that readers find valuable and want to invest in a particular business or cause.
Basically, this kind of thing is right up my street, and something I have been looking into for ages.
Things have been a bit stagnant for a while. I felt stuck. I felt unfulfilled in my job, overworked, overwhelmed and unable to cope with all the extra stresses that provided so little gain. I had started growing tired of the city I lived in. While I love Sheffield, the last year or so has felt like I’ve been stuck in a weird limbo. A lot of my friends are still studying, or work at jobs that allow them to live a student-esque lifestyle still. I’m not a student anymore, and I haven’t been for a while. But I didn’t quite feel like a proper grown up either.
Social media doesn’t really help in the incidences where you are left feeling a bit lost. Everywhere I looked, people were either travelling around the world, or thriving in their very successful careers or businesses. And I know that Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the like are only highlight reels, showing the best bits of someone’s life, but I still couldn’t help but feel inadequate. Well, more than inadequate; I felt like a failure. All I wanted to do for a good chunk of last year was hide away and ignore the world. In fact, even a month ago, I felt like I was at my lowest point ever. Hiding away for just an evening wasn’t enough, I needed a few weeks, a few months. Escaping to Bali for a year, doing the Eat, Pray, Love thing, that would have been ideal.
But I didn’t have that option, so I knew I needed to do something to try to change the situation I was in. In the words of Aaron Burr in Hamilton, “I am the one thing in life I can control.” (Wait For It, in case you were wondering) With only a few months left until the end of the lease to my flat, now was the time to start looking at spreading my wings.
I had been talking about moving to Manchester for a couple of years now. It seemed like the obvious next step; it’s a big city, plenty of opportunity, not too far from Sheffield, and I have some friends there already. London was never even on my radar. Ever. Even back when I lived in Brighton, where I grew up, I never saw myself living in London. I loved to visit, sure, but the best part of visiting London was always being able to leave. It wasn’t until a late night conversion in the kitchen with my best friend not even a month ago that I realised, maybe I should just do it. Take the plunge in the Big Smoke.
To cut a long story short, it paid off. I never dreamed that I would find a job I actually wanted, let alone have it want me back, in such a short space of time. I think the time between applying for it to receiving the official offer was maybe three weeks. Three weeks. And now, in less than a month, I will be living, commuting and working in London. In just under an eight-week turnaround, my whole life has changed. And this is only the beginning.