Throughout most of my twenties I had one thought stuck on loop: In order to be fulfilled, I must quit my job. Each day that went by without making some sort of massive pivot, I lost more trust in my ability to take care of myself. I know what I must do, I cried out in suffering. Why aren’t I doing it?
One day in 2021, I finally took the leap. I was working from home, as I did most days. I hadn’t planned to quit that day at all, but a frustrating conversation with my boss took me over. I started seeing red.
“I think it’s time that I resign,” I said, heart pounding.
She was completely caught off guard. “Are you being… serious?”
I wasn’t sure. I took a pause. I tried to weigh my options in the heat of the moment, but my foot was already ankle-deep in my mouth. “I guess I am. Consider this my official resignation.”
“Wow,” she said. “I did not see this coming.”
Wow was right. I didn’t either.
In the following days, I went for long walks with my thoughts and feelings. I had finally taken the leap I’d demanded of myself for so long, but I had no clue what I was going to do next. I spent years telling myself This is not what I want. This is not what I want! But with the new expiration date on my income, I lost the luxury of setting myself up for a peaceful transition. I had to ask myself a new question. Not what do I want — but what do I need?
It took very little time to come to a clear, wholehearted conclusion. What I needed was to stay in my job — not for my bank account, but for my soul. I needed to practice patience. To learn to find comfort in uncomfortable circumstances. I needed to build resilience, internal strength, flexibility. To trust in the path I was on and untrain my tendency to press the EJECT button every time the going got tough.
A week later, I went into the office and asked my boss if I could unquit. With kindness and grace, she allowed me to stay. I’ve remained at the company ever since.
The ego’s currency is binary narratives. Either/or statements. If X, then Y. Its understanding of the world is limited. It draws its wisdom entirely upon past experiences, unable to account for the possibility of the unknown. The possibility of transformation. It cannot see what it cannot see and does not know what it does not know. Therefore, when seeking safety, it always demands something outside of itself to change.
In order to feel fulfilled, my job must change.
In order to feel secure, my partner must change.
In order to feel at peace, my environment must change.
In order to feel attractive, my body must change.
In many instances, transcending the ego requires subverting its binary narratives. Taking its either/or statements and turning them inside out. Missy Elliott might call it throwing the thing down, flipping it and reversing it. Moira Rose might call it folding in the cheese.
I find subversion to be fun. Empowering. It’s like wearing Vans at a black tie wedding. Logging onto a 9:30 call at 9:31.
In the three years since I unquit, my world has expanded. I’ve leaned more into the opportunities that have been afforded to me, cultivated resilience, and become the manager, leader, and teammate I’d always hoped to be. As I approach my thirties, I feel proud, grateful, and fulfilled.
And not only that — I’ve created entirely new avenues for fulfillment. Like this very newsletter. I’m living deeper in the joy of my art practice than ever before. Carving a path toward personal goals that previously felt impossible. Building trust in my ability to take care of myself as I go.
I didn’t have to abandon my dreams, and I didn’t have to quit my job.
I just had to fold in the cheese.
____
A few things I’m thankful for:
- Time to rest
- The people I work with :)
- Yoga
Pop culture things I’m thinking about:
- Never watched Curb Your Enthusiasm before, but just watched the first couple of episodes of season 12 and I really loved.
- Rihanna’s Interview cover was fire
A random journal entry:
8.11.21
I don’t want my life to exist in moments between work. I don’t want to have to fit life in. Working for money is a means of perpetuating my life, so that I can continue to live it how I want. But what if work is perpetuating living how I don’t want? What is the balance between working so that I can live and removing work so that I can live? How can my life feel simplistic, intentional and mindful, but also diversified?
A random thought:
Maybe I would feel less like I need help if I stopped consuming so much self-help content.
____
Thanks for reading :) Talk again soon.
