What did you want to be when you grew up?

Recently, I asked exactly that question on LinkedIn.

I ended up spending far too much time reading through stories from people whose career ambitions ranged from astronaut to journalist, gymnast to genetic scientist, weather presenter to wrestler. One person wanted to drive a mobile library, another wanted to be Victoria Wood.

What interested me wasn't the ambitions themselves, but the fact that very few people ended up doing the thing they thought they would.

Careers rarely follow a straight line

Looking through the comments, that seemed to be true for almost everyone. Careers that now look logical and successful often started with a chance encounter, a temporary role, a conversation, a volunteer opportunity or a complete change of direction.

In the non-profit sector in particular, some of the most successful careers are built through experiences that would have been difficult to predict in advance.

As recruiters, we spend a great deal of time talking to people about how they arrived where they are. Again and again, we hear stories that make complete sense in hindsight but would have been impossible to predict at the start.

Someone studies geology and ends up leading fundraising for a national charity. A scientist moves into public engagement. A fundraiser becomes a CEO. A marketer finds their way into higher education. A teacher ends up running a membership organisation.

Looking back, most of us can create a story that makes our career seem inevitable. The reality is usually much less tidy, and far more interesting.

The motivations beneath the job title

Reading through the responses, I was struck by how much emphasis we place on certainty, particularly when people are young. Society tends to admire those who can confidently declare what they want to be, while treating uncertainty as something to be solved. Yet many fulfilled and successful people seem to arrive where they are through curiosity rather than certainty.

When children say they want to be an astronaut, vet or footballer, they are often expressing something much broader than a job title. They are talking about exploration, caring for others, challenge, creativity or achievement.

The child who dreams of becoming an astronaut may eventually find that same sense of exploration in scientific research, conservation or international development. The aspiring vet may discover that what really mattered was helping people. The footballer may have been drawn to teamwork, competition and the satisfaction of striving towards something difficult.

Job titles may change, but the motivations beneath them often remain remarkably consistent.

That is why understanding those motivations can matter more than having a perfectly defined career plan. Opportunities emerge, whole industries change, and careers often evolve in ways nobody could have mapped out at the start.

What this means for recruitment

That matters beyond simple career reflection. In recruitment, particularly across charities and other purpose-focused organisations, it raises an important question about how we judge potential.

Looking beyond the obvious career path

Perhaps that is why some of the strongest candidates we encounter do not always have the most obvious career histories.

When recruiting, there can be a temptation to look for the most direct route. The candidate who has done exactly the same role, in exactly the same sector, and can demonstrate a perfectly logical progression from one position to the next.

Relevant experience matters, of course. But some of the strongest hires come from people whose careers have followed less conventional routes.

Sometimes it is the person moving from a larger organisation to a smaller one because they want to be closer to the mission. Sometimes it is someone who appears overqualified but has made a conscious decision about the kind of work they want to do. Other times it is a sector changer or somebody who has stepped sideways rather than upwards in order to learn something new, broaden their experience or contribute in a different way.

Looking at a CV alone, these decisions can sometimes appear unusual. Listening to the person behind the CV, they often make perfect sense.

The best candidates are not always following the most obvious path. More often, they are following the motivations that have shaped them over time, even if the destination looks very different from the one they imagined when they were ten years old.

The original plan was never the point

The comments on my LinkedIn post were full of people at all stages of their careers cheerfully admitting they still were not entirely sure what they wanted to be when they grew up. I found that oddly reassuring.

We often assume successful careers are the result of clear plans, carefully followed. In reality, most are simply making the next best decision with the information, opportunities and priorities available to them at that point in their lives.

Perhaps the people who have it figured out are not those who followed the original plan. Perhaps they are the ones who remained open to the possibility that the original plan was never the point.

After all, if every childhood ambition came true, we would have a lot more astronauts.

And a lot fewer fundraisers and accountants.