Starting Over: My Graphic Design Career After Moving to Vermont

I got married, my husband got transferred to Vermont, a place I’d only ever visited in photos and postcards. We packed our things, said goodbye to familiar streets, and stepped into a new chapter that didn’t have a clear outline yet.

On my last day at the library, I turned in my badge, hugged my coworkers, and walked out feeling both excited and unanchored. I didn’t have a next job lined up. I didn’t have a plan. I just had this quiet confidence that I’d figure it out what was next for my graphic design career.

People kept asking me the same question: “So what are you going to do now?”

And my answer was honest: “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out as I go.”

Almost every time, their response was identical: “Well, you can do graphic design from anywhere.”

I know they meant it kindly. I know they were trying to reassure me. But every time I heard that sentence, something inside me tightened. It revealed how misunderstood this profession really is.

Most people think graphic design is just… making things look pretty. Opening a laptop. Clicking around. Exporting a file. Easy. Portable. Location‑free.

But the reality is different.

Most design roles today that are posted by companies are in‑office, hybrid, or “remote… but only if you live near the office.” They want you close enough just in case they want you to pop in for meetings, brand sessions, production reviews, or collaboration days. They want proximity, not just pixels. The job postings that actually are fully remote positions are highly sought after and extremely competitive to get.

Plus, the industry itself is shifting in ways people outside of it don’t always see. Some companies are experimenting with AI tools to replace parts of the design process rather than hiring designers at all. Others lean on someone already on staff to plug content into Canva templates or try to 'make things pretty' on their own instead of bringing in a trained designer.

But the biggest thing that is misunderstood, the part that still catches me off guard, is how many “graphic design” job postings aren’t actually graphic design roles anymore. They’re looking for a whole marketing team wrapped into one person. A typical listing will say “Graphic Designer,” but the responsibilities read like this:

• Copywriter

• Photographer

• Videographer

• UI/UX Designer

• Social Media

• Web Designer/Developer

• Email Marketer

All under one title.

All for one salary.

All while still expecting high‑quality design work.

It’s wild to watch people assume design is magically location‑free and endlessly automated and somehow a one‑person-does-everything job. As if creativity is just clicking buttons. As if strategy, storytelling, brand voice, collaboration, and human intuition can be outsourced or squeezed into a single job description.

They can’t.  

Not the real work.

Different people specialize for a reason. Designers hone their craft, refine their skills, and find ways to do their work better and more efficiently. When a job posting expects one person to “do it all,” what usually happens is this: they’re excellent at one or two parts of the role, solid at a couple more, and stretched thin or under-qualified for the rest.

No single person can master every discipline in a full marketing department, and they shouldn’t be expected to.

So when people say, “You can design from anywhere,” I always wonder, how do they think that works?

Because yes, creative work is flexible. Yes, I can take on freelance projects from anywhere. Yes, I can build my own studio and shape my own path. But the industry itself isn’t as simple or as portable as people imagine. And navigating that misunderstanding, especially while rebuilding your career in a new place, is its own challenge.

It’s only been two months since my last day at the library, and I’m still figuring out what’s next. I’ve been rebranding, updating my portfolio, applying for any and all design jobs, and taking on freelance projects I can do from anywhere. I’d love to pick up more. I’m exploring new opportunities, refining my voice, and rebuilding the foundation of my creative career from the ground up.

Some days feel steady.

Some feel uncertain.

Most feel like I’m learning how to be a beginner again, in the best possible way.

It’s a season of transition of equal parts vulnerability and possibility. A season of relearning what I want my work to look like. A season of redefining what “anywhere” actually means.

And honestly? I’m excited to see where it leads.