We Bought a Domain Before We Had a Single Attendee. Here's Why.

I'm going to start with the bit most people would leave out: I'm unemployed. Have been for a while. This isn't a project I built after landing on my feet to "give back". I'm still very much in it, writing this between job applications, with a CV gap I could drive a bus through.

So naturally, instead of doing something sensible like updating my LinkedIn headline for the ninth time, I bought a domain.

Here's what actually happened. A few months into job hunting, I noticed the thing nobody warns you about isn't the rejection emails you build a weirdly thick skin for those fast. It's the quiet. No colleagues to complain to. No commute to structure your day. Just you, several tabs open, and a growing suspicion that everyone else in London has their life sorted except you.

Except they don't. I started meeting other people in exactly the same spot, smart, funny, capable people who'd been made redundant, graduated into nothing, or just hit a rough patch, and every single one of them thought they were the only person taking this long. We weren't failing. We were just going through the same unglamorous chapter at the same time, alone, in separate flats, individually convinced we were behind.

That felt like a design flaw I could actually fix. Not with a workshop. Not with a "how to nail your interview" seminar — God, if I have to sit through one more of those. Just people, in a café, on a Sunday, being normal about being unemployed instead of treating it like a secret.

So: The Job Comeback. Sunday meetups, no CVs required, no agenda, no one asking about your five-year plan. Just a room full of people who get it.

I want to be upfront about where this is at. There's no meetup yet — that's coming. Right now it's me, a domain, a Framer site, and a genuine belief that this chapter of unemployment can be one of the better ones in your twenties, if you're not doing it solo.

I'm not writing this from the other side, having "made it" and looking back fondly. I'm writing it from inside the gap, same as you. Which I think is the point. This isn't top-down. There's no top.

Come say hi when the first Sunday lands. Bring your worst rejection email, we'll swap.

Your comeback starts Sunday.