I had an entire post wrote out— 1,300 words already formatted and ready for publication to be exact. But in my zillionth final read of my post before I actually hit publish something changed. I was just saying a bunch of fluffy shit. I didn’t feel like those 1,300 words needed to explain why I quit my job. To put it very briefly, I left my job due to my high ethical beliefs that integrity and morals meant more to me than a paycheck.
I mean I was in a really fucked up situation like thrown under the bus by my director situation. Like quit the same week I came back from a three day vacation and the last Friday before Christmas situation. Like I quit rather abruptly with no back-up plan situation. Like I had no idea where my next paycheck was going to come from situation. Like I had chose to between my principles or livelihood situation. Like I walked away two months before receiving my PTO situation. Like a damn-what-the-fuck-am-I-going-to-do-now situation. But I am an adult and sometimes as an adult, you have to make adult decisions even if it means it’ll cost you your job.
Literally six months before I quit, I drafted a blog post in my Notes app titled, “Why I quit my job”, I kid you not it was exactly six months to the date. I think I felt passionless that day. My job was economically fulfilling but spiritually unfulfilling. But I stuck it out because you know, I had bills and shit. Then six months later, my job confirmed to me how little I mattered to them and then I was like, well fuck this shit. I had two options: 1) stay at a job where I would be walking on eggshells in a work culture that was full of deception or 2) take my woke, creative, fabulous, intelligent, stylish, magical, and college-educated ass away from a company that didn’t respect my presence. So, I left.
I don’t regret my decision at all because working for a company that saw me as a replaceable name badge is not a company where I would like to spend 8 hours of my day. Was deciding to quit my job easy? Sorta. I mean I hate that my bank account is suffering but my spirit was suffering. I was overqualified, but underpaid, and worked under the label of the cute administrative assistant. Forget that I received my bachelor’s from a well-respected and top-rated journalism and mass communications school in the country.
But this is what I want to share from my experience and maybe I can help someone out.
1). Don’t let anyone define who the fuck you are.
2). Don’t take bullshit at your work-place because you need a paycheck. You are not a paycheck, you are a person.
3). When you know your worth, you know how to work.
4). Don’t let anyone make you feel inferior based off labels they have boxed you in due to their superficial analysis of you as a person; you are not two-dimensional.
5). There are other jobs and 49 other states in the country.
6). Shit, make your own damn job!
I’m actually trying to figure out that last one.
You know broke and unemployed is NOT how I saw my 2018 starting but, eh it’s how it started. My 2017 was a semi-depressing year for a reason I may dabble with if I ever get this whole podcast thing off the ground. Well if I ever get it off the ground, just being honest. I also tossed the whole I-should-probably-stop-using-profanity-before-I-have-kids-so-I-can-be-a-saint-mom out the window because dammit sometimes shit/damn/mothafucka/let me over bitch/use your fucking blinkers just makes better sense. That felt gewd.
But uhm if you want me to get churchy and say some real deep philosophic words of endearment, I got you.
Initially, when I was going through the whole job fiasco I felt defeated as fuck. I felt as if I was going up against a machine—a giant—and no matter how many angles I tried to get its attention I felt hopeless like I won’t win. You want to give up and accept defeat because no one cares and the machine just keeps moving like you were never there like you didn’t even matter like you don’t even exist.
Sometimes you get a little discouraged and worried that God is overlooking you. You’re looking around you and everyone is celebrating their promotions, new careers, baby announcements, graduations, new business ventures, anniversaries, engagements, weddings and you feel left out and behind. I know how that feels and I’m right there too wondering when my season when come. And whether giving the homeless person at the corner who’s standing right outside your window as you sit at the red light trying to avoid eye contact the spare dollars in your pocket will initiate your pre-season. Let me also make this very clear: Atlanta has a huge homeless problem. I used to work downtown across from a homeless that shelter that closed last year and it’s pretty devastating to see a homeless shelter shut down and a billion dollar stadium open up. But I’m drifting very, very, very far away from shore right now so let me get back to the point.
When I was going through that whole job fiasco, I remembered a sermon from church years ago (yes I go to church, don’t get it twisted) when the pastor said, “When God is for you, he’s more than the world against you.”
Then the following Sunday after I quit, I heard that same message in church again and I felt I was right where I needed to be to hear what I needed to hear. Sometimes God is the only one who knows the truth besides you, but you feel like it’s just you against the world and that’s not true because God is right there if you let Him walk with you and carry the burden. And boy did I carry some burdens 2017.
So those churchy philosophic words of endearment? Meditate. Pray. Read Psalms 145. Repeat.
(Gah dammit this is right under 1,100 words! Damn.)
(P.S.S. Yes, I created the feature image. Don’t be stealing my creative shit.)