It is popularly believed that men are not as willing to seek help in dealing with challenges in their professional lives as women. How true this is in general, I don’t know. I can only say that my own clients are pretty well equally divided between men and women.
My experience has convinced me that men are just as capable as women of staying the course in a transition process. Just like women, they are not looking for the next job that is simply a rehash of what they’ve already done—they are seeking a genuine new beginning.
In a 
Several years ago, my husband and I visited Gettysburg National Military Park. As we were making our way around the battlefield on bicycle, we came across a marker indicating the place where three divisions of General James Longstreet’s corps set off on what has come to be known as Pickett’s Charge.
Like any other professional, as a career counselor, it’s important for me to keep up with what’s happening in my field. I do this by reading and studying and talking with thought leaders I respect. 
Being in transition lies at the core of every career process, whether it’s looking for work (by choice or necessity), starting a business, or adjusting the demands of work to fit changes in lifestyle. Few people, however, understand what the process of being in transition is really about. 
All of us—young, old, middle-aged—whether we like it or not, practice ageism, at least to some degree. It’s far less obvious than most other prejudices, but it is nevertheless there in how we think about others and, most importantly, how we think about ourselves. The idea that we’re too old (or even too young) to do something is rooted in our own prejudices about the limits that age imposes—limits that are reinforced by the broader ageism that permeates our culture.
Almost everyone knows about a book that has become a classic in the field of career-related literature: 
When I was considering whether to pursue a Master’s in Counseling, I went to talk to a highly respected career professional about it. 
We’ve become accustomed to hearing the story of a professional life told almost exclusively in terms of outstanding accomplishments. 
There’s a lot we can learn from the stories of our professional life—if we tell them in a way that enables us to hear what they really have to say to us. Too often we are satisfied with forcing our career stories to fit the mold of a resume, which is a formal exercise with a fixed external purpose (i.e., getting a job). 
We may not be to breadlines yet, but unless you’ve been in a coma or you’re independently wealthy you probably can’t help noticing that these are hard times. Job “insecurity” is affecting all but the highest rungs on the employment ladder. 
