How Quitting My Job Totally Transformed the Way I Work

And the five simple words that took my breath

Photo by Jenny Ueberberg on Unsplash

When I was a kid, I often heard my dad say, “I gotta go to work.” His hasty, breathless shouts splattered through the air like paint darkening the room.

Never was there a positive connotation in his voice. Not once did I detect a shred of enthusiasm or hope.

As the daughter of a 35-year factory autoworker, I learned that work wasn’t even close to fun.

Work came with a steady paycheck, health insurance, and a few neat discounts. But basically, it was filled with higher-ups that didn’t understand the average employee’s plight, uncertainty, and pride-swallowing discontent.

Most of all, I discovered that work was where dreams and passions went to die.

Things are not what they appear.

I did what I was suppose to do––what my peers were doing and what society overtly told me.

I went to college, followed by grad school. I volunteered at dozens of events in my field and got a handful of low-paying internships for exposure.

I consistently showed up ready for the challenge and did whatever was asked with an enthusiastic smile that took me further than my colleagues.

As time passed, I continued to climb. The outward appearance was shiny and distracting. Successful, you might say.

My title became fancy in complete spelling or abbreviated form.

I had perks and access, blustering superficial confidence, and a sense of value that surged alongside my net worth.

Ah, the American Dream.

And yet, I was tremendously naive. The internal politics and narcissistic selfishness driven by fear cloaked in a navy blue blazer took me by complete surprise.

The demoralizing urgency to do more with less time, resources, and bandwidth was never-ending. My life became a bottomless pit of unproductive emails, conference calls, and meetings.

I’d often travel to corporate trainings or summits showcasing new initiatives. Held over multiple days in listless hotel conference rooms, these alleged priorities would subsequently die out faster than a 90’s boy band.

Moreover, as a charismatic female that posed even the slightest threat to the white, male, good ol’ boy status quo, I wore a scarlet letter I didn’t even know I possessed.

The Hidden Obstacle, My Self-Worth

The challenge was I didn’t believe in myself.

My validation and worth were directly tied to my role and responsibilities. To my paycheck, bonus level, and stock options. To the words on the plastic nameplate outside my office door.

Like an addict, my high came from atta-girls, achievements, and gold stars. I’d temporarily thrive on the praise of others and float through another day.

And yet, most of the time, I felt lost. Secretly overwhelmed. Riddled with anxiety. Hopelessly indifferent. Numb.

I was miserable but couldn’t see a way out that didn’t involve burning it all to the ground. Comfortable in the discomfort, it was all I knew.

Year after year, I stayed stuck in the false safety of certainty versus pursuing my passion in the vast sea of unknowing.

When my days became filled with dread in the morning and tears in the afternoon, I knew I’d hit rock bottom and finally became willing to change.

Transforming Fear

On my 30-mile commute in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I sat in silence, pondering my life.

Surely, I thought, there’s gotta be other options for how I’m spending my time, talents, and energy.

I daydreamed of starting my own business. Sharing stories of my journey. Speaking at events. Helping others.

Yet, newly married with a mortgage, car payment, aging pets, and a shit load of fear, could I really walk away from my “good job” to launch an entrepreneurial passion project?

I heard my union-card-carrying father’s voice in my head, loud as a siren. Stay. It’s not that bad. You can’t just leave!

But my will to follow someone else’s priorities with my precious time was on life support. I was painfully restless and craved an adventure.

Most of all, I wanted out.

Choices

Unexpectedly, the question that kept drifting through my mind was, where else could we live? Not necessarily what else could I do? But where else could I go?

So, like most of us, I started googling.

I wanted to know where we could live on $25K a year. Surprisingly, a handful of viable options appeared, and my fear transformed into excitement — even hope.

While I was plagued with anxiety about leaving my work life, friends, and privileged conveniences behind, I was more terrified of another five or ten years of suffocating angst.

The day after my birthday, I called my boss and quit my job.

My husband and I rented out our house, sold most of our stuff, and moved to a mountain town in Panama with three pets and thirteen gigantic duffle bags.

The Best Realization

Recently, I met a new friend, and as we coordinated schedules to get together and talk about our businesses, she shared this gem:

My time is my own.

Reading her five simple words took my breath.

I literally plopped down in the middle of the living room floor, tears streaming down my face, and read them again. My time is my own.

I realized this was the first time in my entire life that those words were actually true.

I’m not making up a story to get my curfew extended as I did as a teen. I’m not hustling from class to swim practice to avoid pissing off my coach. I’ve stopped racing to get ready in the morning to avoid rush hour traffic or sprinting across the airport to catch a connecting flight to give a presentation.

I’m an adult, and I have choices.

In the midst of life’s overwhelming busyness, it’s easy to forget.

I now get to choose how my day flows. I get to wake up early, start my day with meditation and a walk or linger in bed if my body needs more rest. Most importantly, I get to say when I work and on what.

If work for a particular day means writing, video editing, brainstorming a solution to a challenge, or meeting with clients, fantastic.

But it’s also completely acceptable if work happens to mean focusing on my self-care, cooking nourishing meals, hiking in nature, connecting with a friend, or taking my sick kitty to the vet.

It’s taken me two years of being off the corporate hamster wheel to slow down and learn how to be. To stop human doing and enjoy human being.

While there have certainly been times I was antsy with anxiety or frozen in fear over my decision to leave my corporate career, today, I have deep contentment and joy that comes from the freedom to follow my dreams.

. . .

Rebecca Murauskas is a Life Coach for professionals. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.