I quit my job today, but refused to say the words

“I quit”

Yes, there is another recent blog post on here about quitting that explicitly says not to quit, but to rest. And yes, I feel like an idiot looping back around to this concept but today… I quit my job! This is not the first time I have quit a job mind you. Insert an eye roll from my parents here.

It always seemed that generations before me were committed to work. They picked a job, settled down, and stuck with it. It was meant to be mundane, miserable, and money making. Jobs were places where you hunkered down to collect a paycheck and a pension, not a place to seek fulfillment. To be honest, the prospect of this scenario terrified me and was a primary driver for my decision to pursue graduate school. I wasn’t ready to settle. I wasn’t ready to sit at a desk all day. There was so much more to learn, such an expanse of world to see, and so many experiences to appreciate. Eventually, the degree funny money dried up and enter jobs. I worked a number of 9-5s and learned the routine - clock in, look productive, clock out (with a few innovative ideas and solutions sprinkled in). I felt stifled, stuck, and truly trapped. But I didn’t see a way out or another path forward, until I met my husband.

Justin opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me. He taught me that money does not need to be your driving motivator, that you can have a job that does not ever feel like work, that you can find fulfillment and pursue things that make you feel alive, true to yourself. I have watched him grow his business and come home day after day, energized by what he has created, as he chats my ear off about the latest article he wrote, engaging conversation that he had, or recent business goal he achieved. Silently, I envied him. I envied his ability to leave the house and do something that made him feel so alive each day. So… I took a job.

I put it out to the universe, that if I was meant to get a job, to make it easy. I vowed to myself that I would not force a square hole into a round peg, and I made one phone call. Turns out, that phone call carried all the weight of divine intervention and sent me down the professional path once again. At first, I was pumped. I felt giddy as I put on new clothes, trekked off to the office, and grabbed a fancy coffee on the way. “Look at me, I’m back in the workforce!”. It carried a sense of value, purpose, and contribution that I felt I was lacking. I was a contributing member of our household once again - take that!

And then, the work began. Mind you… I don’t think anyone who knows me would describe me as “lazy”. I have my own business, do a ton with our kids, and have a number of side projects that I am constantly working to improve. This work felt different, though. I thought that sitting at a desk would replace the sense of meaninglessness that I found in the mundane at home. I had hoped that a fancy title and a paycheck would supplement the void that I sensed as I washed endless dishes and completed the 100th load of laundry. I expected “real work” to feel fulfilling and to define my sense of purpose. Newsflash: I was muy incorrecto.

The truth is, the work that I picked up was just… work. My team was lovely, my boss was supportive, and they offered every flexibility in the world. Who am I to complain when they have bent over backwards to make this happen on my terms, just for me? So I trudged along and confined myself to a role that served no other purpose than to prove I was capable. Eventually, I was doing this work for everyone except myself. I didn’t want to let my team down and didn’t produce crap work… I didn’t want to quit.

So I stayed up until 1am to get the other life things done, I tried my best to sneak away and squeeze in quality time with my kids, ran to the gym to workout my body, yawned through my coursework and rushed through the activities that I so desperately wanted to sit down and soak in. Through it all, in the back of my mind I heard the small voice saying “for what?”. To what end, to what gain - why am I doing this? The answer never came. Instead it surfaced as “oh I couldn’t let my team down” or “I would never want to disappoint them” or “well I don’t have anything else important to pivot to”.

Then, an email popped up in my inbox, alerting me that it was time for Caden’s kindergarten registration. My baby was going to school. Both of my babies, just 21 months apart, would be in the same school, same schedule, exploring their own talents and minds in the absence of… well, me. In that moment, part of me was happy to know that I would have a job to fill time. For the first time in 6 years and 2 months I would have days to design around me. The other part of me broke open, as I realized I was sacrificing the moments and relationships that I hold most sacred in my life. And for what? Because I didn’t want to let anyone down.

So. I choked back tears, spewed a rambling of excuses, and sobbed to my boss that I wasn’t balancing things well. After a 6 minute run on sentence she replied, “I think what you’re saying is that you’d like to quit, without using those words. Is that what you’re saying?”. I froze, and admitted I had a hard time saying those words, but yes. Yes, I was quitting. To be honest, I still have no explicitly said the words… (ugh, gotta work on that inner issue) but I set the ball rolling to transition away from safety, security, stability to pursue the unknown, unassured, and uncertain path forward.

I have adopted a simple mantra to guide this uncharted path. “Stick to the why”. Every action that I take, every new activity that I pursue, every choice that I make to use my time is an indicator of my priorities. When I am questioning whether or not my desires align with my truth and authentic desires - I come back to the why. It’s not for others, it’s not for clout, nor for a false sense of identity - my driving whys are the people that are important to me, the passions I hope to birth from within me, and the sense of accomplishment and fulfillment that only I can define for myself. It appears that, yes, somedays you simply must rest. And other days, it’s time to quit.

Sidenote: No tubs of ice cream were harmed in this decision. Simply devoured.