Across the Atlantic Ocean was Canada – the country I dreamed of living in. It was smooth sailing to get here but the waves became choppy once I stepped ashore.
I always wanted to live in Canada. Being a person who likes taking decisions based on facts and evidence, I had seen that Canada is highly rated in quality of life based on the Hunnam Development Index (HDI) scores, and the openness to immigration. For this reason, Canadian Universities were my first choice when seeking admission to further my studies. However, I was unable to secure funding for my PhD research in Canada, so I ended up going to the UK.
When I completed my research, I had my dream job as an Enterprise Fellow and Research Manager for my university, working in collaboration with the United Nations. I traveled the world, which was wonderful for a while, but with a 7-year-old daughter at home, the travels became too much. Additionally, it would have taken me 6 more years to become a permanent resident of the UK, while I only needed 9 months to become a permanent resident in Canada – the country I had always wanted to live in.
So, I decided to move. It took me a full year to mentally prepare for the scary, massive risk and huge life changing decision I was about to make. I arrived in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada on July 30th, 2019, optimistic that all would turn out well soon enough.
I hit the ground running and started looking for work right away. In the first week of my arrival, I had two interviews. That was very reassuring – I was going to get something very soon. One week turned to two weeks, and then three weeks, then months. It took five long months until I was finally offered a job.
That five-month period was a roller coaster of emotions. I felt completely crushed by the enormous number of rejections to more than 300 job applications. I remember opening my email to see the standard rejection phrases, “I am sorry”, or “I am afraid.” I was beginning to think I had made the worst decision of my life. I wondered if downplaying my achievements – like removing my PhD from my resume – would help my chances. I wondered if an entry level job was the only option for an immigrant.
I was despondent. There was one particular moment that I will never forget. I’d received yet another rejection email and I broke down in tears. I sobbed in the presence of my 9-year-old daughter. I had tried so hard to put on a brave face for her, but I just couldn’t keep up the façade any longer. She comforted and consoled me and I remember her assuring me as she hugged me, “Mama, don’t cry. It will get better.” She is my beacon of light when I am lost.
I tried to figure out what I wasn’t doing right and realized that I needed to have a better understanding of Canadian work culture. I really had no clue what the Canadian job market looked like and that many of my assumptions about landing a job were wrong. For instance, I didn’t know what an “informational interview” was. I also lacked basic but critical knowledge about how the financial system in Canada worked, which made me feel even more uncertain and out of place.
I’d spent my whole life being a researcher, so I approached finding a job as a research topic. I began searching for employment agencies focused on immigrant women. I found out about the YWCA Elevate Skills program and once enrolled, it was the beginning of finding the many answers to the questions I had asked myself. It was through this program that I was connected to Dress for Success Vancouver, and joined the Professional Women’s Group (now Working Women’s Group). From my very first interaction, I remember the warmth and understanding of the staff. They made me feel seen, heard, and reassured that I was not navigating the Canadian job market alone anymore.
This program offered me the opportunity to further grow professionally by giving me access to information, knowledge, and a supportive community of women who were walking similar paths. Now I am an Ambassador – a role that provides me with so many opportunities to share my story in the hopes of empowering other immigrant women. What motivates me is knowing how long I felt lost and wanting other women to avoid that same prolonged confusion when help is readily available.
Through my expanded network, I was connected to other employment programs that fund professional development training for immigrants, which helped me secure funding for my Project Management Professional (PMP) membership and certification. Beyond credentials, I gained friendships, confidence, and practical knowledge that changed how I now show up for others.
Now, I can say I have an amazing teaching and research job, passed my PMP, and my daughter is super proud of her mama. What gives me the greatest sense of fulfillment is referring other women to Dress for Success Vancouver and seeing how much they grow and change because of that support. Being part of their journey has connected me to a wider, stronger community and created a ripple effect that extends to my family and beyond. And those choppy waves? Much smoother now.
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