Your CV Isn't Perfect. Neither Is Mine. And That's the Point.

Let me say something not many people in HR admit out loud.

There is no such thing as a perfect career path.

I've reviewed thousands of CVs over the years. I've sat across the table from extraordinary people, smart and experienced and genuinely credible, and almost every single one of them has something in their story they'd rather not explain. A role that ended unexpectedly. A gap. A restructure they didn't see coming. A boss who championed them one day and seemed to forget their name the next.

We've all been there. Really, all of us.

The restructure that had nothing to do with your performance but felt completely personal. The organisation that changed around you while you stayed exactly who you always were. The moment you realised the company you'd given everything to was moving in a direction that no longer had a seat for you.

These things happen. To good people. To excellent people, actually.

What I've noticed, both as an HR leader and now as a coach, is that the people who struggle most in career transition are often the ones trying to paper over these moments. They want to spin it, smooth it out, make it look neat. And I get the instinct. It feels safer.

But the people who move forward fastest are the ones who own their story.

Not perform it. Not over-explain it. Own it.

There's a real difference between "I was made redundant" said with shame, and "I was part of a significant restructure, it was hard, here's what I took from it, and here's what I'm looking for now" said with clarity. The words are almost the same. The energy is completely different. And the person sitting across the table from you feels that difference immediately.

The question I always ask my clients is: what did that experience teach you that you couldn't have learned any other way?

A difficult boss teaches you something about your own limits, your non-negotiables, the kind of leadership culture you'll never accept again. A restructure forces you to get honest about what you actually want next, rather than just drifting into whatever comes easily. A period of feeling undervalued clarifies, fast, what recognition and good work actually mean to you.

These aren't footnotes to your career. They're chapters of it. Real ones. The kind that make you interesting, self-aware, and genuinely resilient, not just someone who claims to be.

Interviewers who are worth working for aren't looking for an unblemished record. They're looking for self-awareness. Maturity. The ability to reflect honestly, take something real from a hard experience, and move forward without bitterness.

Give them that, and you'll stand out from every polished, perfectly rehearsed candidate in the room.

Your imperfections are part of what makes your story worth listening to.

Own them.