I quit my job at 35 after my husband died. It's been 6 years, and finding a new job has been harder than expected.

• Alex Delaney describes her career and life changes after her husband's sudden death.
• She faced challenges returning to work, cultural differences, and job market difficulties in the US.
• Delaney started Lemons.Life, an online will-writing service inspired by her personal experience.

This as-told-to-essay is based on a conversation with Alex Delaney, 41, who is based in Chicago. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After my husband died suddenly at the age of 39, both my body and mind remained in a state of shock for years to come.

It happened in 2018, when I was 34, and it has taken a long time for the cortisol levels in my body to come back down, and, in parallel, for the fog of grief to lift.

It was an extraordinarily intense experience, and I really struggled, especially with work.

The future we had been planning for was gone

We were at home, in our apartment in London, when out of nowhere, he collapsed. I rushed him to the hospital, and within 45 minutes, he was pronounced dead. It turned out he'd had deep vein thrombosis, which became the pulmonary embolism that killed him.

Just like that, he was gone, and so was the future we'd been planning. We had been trying to have a child for a long time and were undergoing IVF without any success.

I was working as a PR manager at the time, and the support from my employer was brilliant. I took a solid month off work straight after it happened. I then did a phased return over six months, but I couldn't even sit at my desk and focus. I did not care about work at all and felt completely disconnected from it.

Work didn't matter anymore

I think some people find work a helpful way to keep busy and take their mind off things. But I just felt very nihilistic, as if none of it mattered, least of all getting a report published in the media. That's why I decided it was time to take a step back from work.

A few months later, in 2019, I found a two-day-a-week role at a women's issues charity, which I thought would help me keep my hand in my career.

I did that for about six months, but ended up stepping up into an executive director role. It wasn't what I wanted. I felt completely burned out and tired, and I didn't want to be thinking about other people's problems. I wanted to be completely selfish, to focus on myself and feel better.

I resigned in 2020 and haven't been employed since then.

I started dating again

But then things changed. Once you've been happily married, you think, "Will I ever be happy again?" So, regardless of what people would think, I got onto some dating apps pretty quickly, because by then, I was a 35-year-old woman who wanted children. My age meant I would have to push myself forward if I wanted this to happen.

I was fortunate to meet and marry another brilliant man, and we had a beautiful son. My new husband was offered a job in Chicago, and I was happy to make the move. When I got here, my visa didn't allow me to work. Our son was only 6 months old at the time, so I was happy to be able to spend that time with him.

I began to feel isolated in my new community, so I pursued a part-time MBA over the next two years. During that time, my green card came, so now I'm entitled to work. We've since also had a daughter, who's now 4 months old.

It feels really difficult to get back into work

While I'm enjoying taking care of both her and my son, I'm conscious about getting back into work. After a period of grief, you get to a point where you feel you've thought enough about yourself and how sad you are. You're ready to re-engage with the world and discover new things that interest you again.

But I'm painfully aware of having stepped out of a trajectory where I was going to be a senior director of a charity. After all this time out, it feels really difficult to get back into it.

I've applied for 10 jobs so far, and the job market is tougher than I had anticipated. I have been finding it challenging to secure a new role. Employers are not necessarily seeing the transferable nature of the professional experience I had gained in the UK, which I had thought would be highly relevant, having specialised in the charity sector.

There's also a cultural difference between the UK and the US, around the confidence with which you speak about yourself in the workplace. In the UK nonprofit sector, there's a sense of humility, where one does not want to overclaim achievements. In the US, you're expected to claim as much as you can. I have to learn how to do that. Sliding post-maternity confidence is a thing, too.

I have, however, had the space to start a business — Lemons.Life — an affordable online will writing service that was inspired by the difficulties I faced after my first husband died. He died without a will, which caused some issues regarding the division of his assets. We do sell a number of online wills each week, and I'm really proud of that. But it's a side project, not a full-time job.

Looking back, I want to tell my younger self to push further in your 20s, because it really matters. I think I stayed in roles too long because I thought I'd have a baby soon, and I wanted maternity leave.

I have had to take the cards I've been dealt, and I'm more resilient for all of those experiences — but there's no doubt about the impact it's had on my career.