Vietnam, Factories and The Career Advice I Learned Too Late

Tracy at Vietnam Book Street, Saigon - September 2025

I had the great pleasure of catching up with some dear friends on the West Coast recently. We don’t get to speak often, but when we do, it always feels like taking a long drink of water after not realising how thirsty you’ve been. They asked how things were going in Vietnam, and when I said, “It’s been over five months now,” they looked genuinely stunned.

Time does that. When you’re in the thick of daily life, it’s easy to forget that months are passing. For me, it wasn’t a child outgrowing the cutest gilet or a season changing. It was realising I can now cross the road here without it causing crippling anxiety.

When I first landed in Ho Chi Minh City in May, I had less than three days’ notice. No buffer period, no slow ramp-up, no emotional preparation. I arrived in a completely unfamiliar city, surrounded by a language I couldn’t understand, working across nine live manufacturing projects at once. Every day was a ‘get on with it’ day — learning names, navigating factory toilets, figuring out who does what, and adjusting to torrential downpours that appeared without warning, apology or an umbrella to hand.

All nine projects are now at MP. I know where everything is. I have favourite coffee shops on rotation. And only now, at the very end, do I realise how long I’ve been in survival mode. I’ve been so focused on doing the thing, I forgot to acknowledge that I AM doing the thing (thanks to Sophie for helping me remember).

That feeling — of being physically somewhere but mentally lagging behind — isn’t unique to moving abroad. You can feel it when starting a new job, relocating, beginning a relationship, even just stepping into a new version of your own life.

Some part of us always clings to what we just left, even when we chose to leave it.

Looking back, the hardest part of this experience wasn’t just the logistics. It was the fact that I never had time to mentally arrive. Normally there’s paperwork, goodbyes, a slow emotional ramp. This time I was simply gone. I packed clothes but not thoughts. My body boarded the plane long before my mind caught up.

Most of the discomfort I felt in those early months wasn’t about Vietnam. It was about holding on — to a previous version of my life, to a sense of familiarity and identity I didn’t realise I had anchored to so tightly.

I’ve noticed this pattern in myself before: the resistance phase before acceptance.

You don’t get to skip it just because you know you’re lucky.

Here are some of my biggest career advice nuggets, shared with you.

Let what’s behind you take care of itself

• Like Vietnamese drivers, don't worry about what's behind you, your responsibility is what is ahead and what you can see.

• It looks like there are lots of people that will run you over, but… they can see you too… and it is not ever their intention to hit you.

Trust that the flow will go around you, not run you down.

Carry the umbrella, even when the sky looks fine

• At first, it seems that downpours can appear out of nowhere, but with consistency and mindfulness, you WILL learn the signs and routines. In the meantime, always take an umbrella (this rule also applies to Scotland btw).

  
  

Inclusion takes more effort than taking the path of least resistance

• Take note of who you are giving power to, and who you are choosing to take it away from, over and over again. Success for all parties in the long run, comes from inclusion, not just taking the path of least resistance.

• Even the quietest wheel needs (and appreciates) some oil. Lack of attention and check-in leads to contempt instead of it being a sign of trust.

• If multiple sources are telling you the same thing, it’s probably time to make a mindset shift (even if it means you lose some face).

  
  

Alignment beats speed, every single time

• Ambitious goals start with everyone receiving, and sharing down, the memo; if everyone is not on board, you're going to go nowhere fast.

• Going faster isn’t about just going faster, throwing people and money at the problem. Even if you go slower for a short period, you must find and fix the bottlenecks, or you're just going to have a bigger mess, faster.

• Omitting communication with some levels of hierarchy means you're never going to know the whole story and decisions suffer

Being the first person to be brave enough to ask the seemingly stupidest question is the one who is needed most in the long run.

Every yes has a cost, even if it doesn’t hurt at first

• Saying yes to many things ultimately means saying no to yourself, many times over.

Career Advice To My Former Self

I’m writing this in my favourite coffee shop, watching the chonkyiest cat take a nap next to the window. It’s my final weeks here and I feel a slight ache I didn’t expect — not because I don’t want to leave, but because part of me has only just arrived.

And this is the part I wish I’d understood sooner:

You can land somewhere, fully aware of how fortunate you are to be there — and still struggle to feel present.

You can know a moment is special and still not be able to access it in real time.

Gratitude doesn’t dissolve the lag between external change and internal readiness. Some experiences are so big, your mind can only enter once it feels safe — and safety rarely runs on schedule.

Sometimes we only become fully present at the moment of goodbye. And even then, even with all the will in the world — some things just take time.

What are your moments of gratitude, arriving too late? Leave a comment in the chat.