When the Job Hunt Feels Like Rejection on Repeat

I have been putting off writing this one for a while, which feels a bit ironic given how much I have also been putting off job hunting after retrenchment some days. But here we are, part two of this journey, so here is what job hunting after retrenchment has been like these days since I first told you what happened.

I went into this fairly picky, and I am not apologising for it. After nine years of sacrificing time with my kids, working late nights, and throwing myself completely into that role, I am not settling for something that does not at least try to match what I gave. It is not just about the title or the pay anymore; it is about whether a job can actually fit around my life as a single mom doing the school run and everything else that comes with it on my own. So remote is not a nice-to-have for me; it is the whole ball game.

But being picky in this market means sifting through a lot of nothing. I will sit down to search, and it eats hours: scrolling, reading, deciding what is even worth applying for, and then sending it off into what feels like a void. I have applied for close to fifty roles at this point, and I can count the actual responses on one hand. Most of it is silence, or a polite rejection weeks later that barely feels worth the wait.

And here is the part that actually makes me angry. I came across a Training Operations Manager role recently, based out in Stellenbosch, needing five years of specialised experience, someone who could run compliance, manage a team, and handle SETA and QCTO audits—basically own an entire operation. The salary on offer was R35 000 a month. The benefits listed were things like 21 days of annual leave, which, correct me if I am wrong, is just what a permanent job is supposed to give you anyway, not some bonus perk. That is the kind of listing that makes you wonder if companies have just decided that if they dress it up enough, nobody will notice what they are actually offering for what they are actually asking.

I will not pretend I know for certain why so many of my applications go nowhere. Some days I wonder if it is my age; other days I wonder if it is what I have put down as my salary expectation, since almost every application asks for it upfront and it is hard not to feel like that number gets used to filter people out before a human even reads the rest. I cannot prove any of that. It might just be what my mind does with silence, filling the gap with worst-case stories. But watching the applicant count on LinkedIn climb past a hundred within a day of a listing going up, that part is not in my head. That is just what is happening right now to a lot of us, all trying to provide for our families while the cost of living keeps climbing and the salaries do not move, something I said I would write about properly once I had the words for it.

Out of everything I have sent out, I have had three interviews. Two of them felt genuinely good, the kind where you walk away thinking that went well. One came back saying I was strong but not the right fit for what they needed. The other went quiet for two weeks and then reached out, asking for a second call, which I am still waiting on, so that one is still open, still sitting there unresolved.

The third one is the one that still keeps me up some nights. It was an AI interview, my first ever, for a role that, when I read the description, felt like someone had written down exactly what I had been doing for years. I wanted it more than I have wanted anything in this whole search. And I completely fell apart. I had no idea what to expect going in; I was so nervous I started rambling, going in circles, not really answering what was asked, and I came across as nothing like the person who could actually do that job. I never heard from them again. I still think about it more than I would like to admit, and I still feel disappointed in myself over it, even though I know beating myself up does not change how it went.

A few days ago, two of my old colleagues and I met for breakfast, mostly just to offload on each other, and hearing them talk made it clear none of us are imagining any of this. One of them told me she just breaks down crying out of nowhere some days, that some days are okay and others are just dark – no other word for it. They are going through the exact same grind, applications into silence, interviews that do not turn into offers, and the whole thing feels uglier than it should. One of them had an interview scheduled without anyone even checking if she was free, and when she asked to move it, the response back was short and unkind, like she was the inconvenience. On top of that, there is the UIF worry, knowing what little it actually pays out and how far that will not stretch. Sitting there with them, comparing notes over breakfast, it hit me that this is not a ‘me’ problem. Carrying all of this alone is its own kind of weight, and it is happening to good, capable people all around me, all at the same time.

If you are in the middle of this too, sending applications into silence, replaying an interview that did not go how you hoped, wondering if it is you or if it is just how brutal this market has become, I want you to know you are not imagining it and you are not alone in it. This is what it is like for so many of us right now. If you have got a story like this, or something that has helped you get through it, I would really love to hear it in the comments. Sometimes just knowing there are others who understand what you are going through is enough to make tomorrow’s laptop-opening feel a little less heavy.