Why Security Wasn’t the Career for Me
For nearly two years, I worked in security.
I’ve thought a lot about how to write this post because I don’t want it to come across as an attack on the industry. There are people who build successful careers in security, and there are certainly positions that are far more involved than the one I worked.
But if I’m being truthful about my own experience, security became one of the most unfulfilling jobs I’ve ever had.
The biggest benefit was the paycheck.
Beyond that, I struggled to find much value in what I was doing.
The position was a Level II security role. Most of my nights consisted of walking patrols, scanning checkpoints, reporting burned-out lights, documenting maintenance issues, and serving as a type of concierge for tenants and visitors. Very little of the job actually felt like security work.
I wasn’t preventing crime. I wasn’t solving problems. I wasn’t developing specialized skills. Most nights felt like I was simply occupying a space because someone needed a body in a uniform.
And sometimes even the uniform felt optional.
Many coworkers showed up late. Some didn’t wear their uniforms properly. Turnover was constant. People came and went so frequently that it became difficult to learn names before they disappeared.
What surprised me most was how little professionalism seemed to matter.
The job often felt less like a career field and more like a revolving door.
The pay wasn’t strong enough to justify making it a long-term profession. The benefits, when available, weren’t enough to make a meaningful difference. There was very little sense of investment in employees and very little sense of pride among many of the people doing the work.
Over time, I started asking myself a difficult question:
“If I stay here another five years, what does my life look like?”
The answer scared me.
I imagined more overnight shifts. More walking empty buildings. More reports that nobody seemed to care about. More nights watching the clock and waiting for morning.
The truth is that I was bored.
Not the kind of boredom that comes from having a slow day.
The kind of boredom that slowly eats away at your motivation.
The kind that makes you feel like you’re standing still while the rest of your life moves forward without you.
The overnight schedule made everything harder. Sleeping during the day never felt natural to me. Maintaining relationships was harder. Taking care of my health was harder. Having a normal routine was harder.
After two years, I realized I wasn’t building a future.
I was maintaining the present.
For some people, security is a stepping stone. For others, it’s a career. For me, it became neither.
It was simply a job that paid the bills while I figured out what came next.
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Not every job has to be your passion. Not every position has to be your life’s work.
Sometimes a job exists to get you through a season.
For me, security served that purpose.
It gave me income when I needed it.
But after two years, I knew I couldn’t spend another decade doing work that left me feeling disconnected, uninspired, and stagnant.
Life is too short to spend years counting the hours until your shift ends.
So I’m moving on.
Not because security is inherently bad.
But because I finally admitted that it wasn’t where I wanted my story to end.