Why I Left My Corporate Job

My thoughts on fear, courage, and being an entrepreneur.

In January of 2018 I left my 10-year-old online business for a job as a trainer/facilitator with a Leadership Development company. Though it was a complicated decision — walking away from my website, blogging, subscribers, my online presence — I knew it was the right one.

I was right. I loved the work. I loved the content I got to teach. And I loved the people I worked with. Just a year later, I was promoted. Then, just over a year later, Covid descended. Then, months after that, there was an unexpected senior leadership change. Then, everything changed.

In the midst of such, and regrettably, I watched myself move into my highly-honed default behaviors of compromise and compliance. I kept my head down. I didn’t speak up. I pulled back. I did what was required — but with less heart, less presence, less “me.” Until…

I pulled back far enough to notice. I had to honestly acknowledge that I was behaving in ways that were completely antithetical to who I knew myself to be. And though I couldn’t have known where it would lead, I said to myself, “No more.”

And then, things got even harder (as is almost always the case when we choose our own integrity, authenticity, and alignment over compromise and compliance). And harder still. Eventually, through a “mutual separation agreement,” I left. September 17, 2020.

It is hard to make choices on our own behalf when they are costly, when there is so much at stake, when fear of the unknown looms.

I believe this is almost always the nature of it — at least as I look back on the most significant decisions and transitions in my life. I also believe that bearing those costs and facing those fears exponentially increased the reward, my sense of strength and capacity, my awareness of my own value and worth.

If you are sitting at a crossroads, where the laundry list of costs feels nearly overwhelming, where what’s at stake is pretty much everything, where the fear of the unknown feels dark and scary, here’s what I want you to know:

  • Consider that the complexity and cost is the very evidence you need to confirm just how important this choice is, just how capable and worthy you are to make it, just how much you and your desires matter.
  • If it were simple or benign, you would have already made the move, had the conversation, left the job, risked it all, started your own business, enforced the boundary.It’s NOT simple or benign. Which is WHY it is asking so much of you.
  • Know that your costs and fears are real. You get to acknowledge them instead of push them under the surface. Not once, but over and over again. Though this feels daunting, it is like Olympic training: building strength you didn’t know you had in order to face and surmount challenges you didn’t know you could.
  • Trust me when I tell you that you are no less worthy if you wait, if you hold off, if you can’t bear those costs right now. I understand. You are still more than enough.

*****

Now just over a year out from my seemingly-stable corporate position that offered me a steady paycheck and benefits and frequent flyer miles and an expense account — I feel the to-be-expected angst of being on my own.

Day-in, day-out I see the costs, what’s at stake, and all my fears lined up like toy soldiers in front of my computer monitor waiting to be addressed or ignored, tackled or given into.

Day in, day-out I remind myself of what I’m doing and why it matters.

And day in, day-out I recognize that in spite of it all, I am choosing me — over and over again. Most days, that is more than enough benefit to stay the course, trust myself, and persist. Easy? Not at all. Worthwhile? That IS the risk, the gamble, and the focus of my endless hope.

May it be so.

12 Years of Blogging

I find it almost impossible to believe that 12 years have passed since I meekly created a WordPress site and began typing/publishing my thoughts, later my very heart.

12 years ago I would have never dared articulate my deeper feelings; it all seemed way too risky, way too fraught with consequence, way too vulnerable. Still and clearly, something in me wanted and needed to at least begin, to try, to speak (even if quietly and almost completely off the radar). If that were not the case, I would have never created the site in the first place. But I did. And I dared – bit by bit, slowly, tentatively, and in less-than-eloquent form to somehow be honest with myself.

When I look back at those early writings, I feel my heart’s ache all over again. Not so much in what was said, but in what was left unsaid. In between the lines I find and recall my every question, doubt, and as-yet unexpressed grief. I look back and recognize just how many of these were yet to grow into full expression and lived experience. Hardly pleasant, all of them; but no less true.

Isn’t that almost always the way of it?

Hindsight…

But there’s this, as well:

When we get closer and closer to our own edge, to the place that is calling us (even begrudgingly) into more strength, more courage, more capacity, and yes, more voice, we tiptoe all the more gingerly. We are afraid that the slightest misstep will cause all manner of disaster to befall. And we pull back. Unless we don’t. Unless, as we look out over that seemingly-treacherous and cavernous ledge, we lean forward. We risk the fall, the bruising, the shattering, the breaking – all on the slight chance that there will be a miracle, a soft landing, the ability to fly, much grace.

What enables the latter?

In my experience, it’s been the scary-but-consistent voicing of my thoughts, feelings, desires, beliefs, doubts, arguments, anger, and fear(s). It’s been the naming, the truth-telling, the achingly-slow movement toward honesty. It’s been being heard. Yes, this:

When we are heard, we are healed.

I do not mean to deny the value in good, self-reflective work. Of course, there is much healing and growth to be gained in the silence of our own minds and hearts. But if these past 12 years have taught me anything (and they have taught me more than I can possibly recount), this rings truest:

When I step out of the shadows (of my own mind, my own secrets, my own hidden stories) and into the light, most of what I fear does not happen; rather, just the opposite. The light remains – and grows. The shadows lessen. And strength surges, restores, and rebuilds.

And why? Because when I speak, when I let myself be heard, when I allow myself to be seen, then and only then do I realize that I am not alone. I never have been, of course. Not really. But when in my hardest, darkest places, you couldn’t convince me of that. Now you can’t convince me otherwise,

Now I know that the tougher the emotion, circumstance, or reality, the more I need to speak, be heard, and be seen.

And I am. Beautifully. Graciously. Kindly. Powerfully. Over and over again.

Not because I’m so amazing – but because those who surround and support and witness and mirror and call and invite and pour me coffee or wine or champagne are!

How would I know any of this if not for this blog? If not for this virtual platform through which one evening, long, long ago, I began to take the smallest and nearly anonymous of steps? If I had not allowed myself to speak, be heard, and be seen? I shudder to think…

So, the takeaways in all of this? Well, there are (at least) two:

The first one is for me: There is further to go, more distance for me to travel, stories yet to tell, darkness yet to expose. That is just the way of it for all of us – always. And being here, staying here, writing here is at least part of what invites more and more of the light (not to mention the miracles, the soft landings, the ability to fly, and the grace) again and again and again.

The second one is for you: May you speak or write or blog or call a friend or send an email or have the conversation that needs to be had. May you recognize that until you step into the light (no matter how tentatively, quietly, or timidly), the shadows remain. And most of all, may you believe this: the shadows are not your home. Then. Now. Ever.

OK. Maybe one more takeaway for us both:

WHEN we step into the light we’ll be seen – and met and surrounded and supported and loved. How can it be otherwise?

Here’s what I know-know-know to be true (learned through 12 years of blogging and MANY more years of life): we are not alone. Ever.

*****

I am profoundly grateful to so many of you – for reading my words (and hearing the many left unsaid, the many housed between the lines), for staying with me and standing by me, for offering me such encouragement over the years, for becoming my dearest and deepest of friends (you know who you are), for helping me, increasingly, to stand in the light – unblinking.

About My HUGE Celebration!

About four weeks ago, I posted a picture on Facebook of a glass of champagne, hinting that I had something to celebrate. This past week I did so again – declaring that the celebration was now officially “on.” In between the two pictures and the posts, many have guessed, others have blatantly asked, but most have just requested that I end the suspense already.

It’s not an engagement.
It’s not a book deal.
It’s not a lottery win.

But from where I sit, it feels like all three of these rolled into one.

Some history. On March 31, 2009, I got laid off from my job. I won’t go into the years of angst that created, the gallons of tears I shed, the anxiety and worry that plagued as to how I would continue to pay my bills, take care of my girls, and manage my life.

For six years now I have pieced income together. Consulting gigs. Contract work. All part time and three or four things at a time. I’ve purchased for my own medical/dental benefits, forgotten what
paid vacation means, and have slotted my writing, my daughters, my life into a schedule that has been driven by keeping plates spinning and responsibilities sustained.

One of those “pieces” has been my role as a trainer/facilitator with the Department of Labor. For 5+ years I’ve spent 3 days a week with Army, Air Force, Navy, Coast Guard and Marine Corps separatees/retirees – helping them with their transition from military to civilian life. I’ve stood at a podium, clicked through Powerpoint slides, provided witty anecdotes, written on more whiteboards than I care to count, talked about resumes / networking / interview skills/salary negotiation, and gotten choked-up when, each week, I’ve thanked them for their service and genuinely hoped good things for their futures.

I’ve been grateful. It’s been rewarding. It’s been constant. It’s paid the bills. And only a few plates have crashed to the ground.

In the midst of all this, I have been working on my business, this business, my heart. All along I have been waiting, hoping, praying for the scales to tip, for earnings to be significant enough that I can let go of outside work and devote my time and energy to that which I prefer. And all along I’ve been dreaming about finding any way in which I can be ‘location-independent’ – able to work anywhere there’s internet connectivity, my laptop, and good coffee – no suits, commutes, or witty anecdotes required.

Cutting to the chase. As of April 1, 2015 (exactly six years later – how amazing is that?!?) I will be working exclusively from home. Even better (if that’s possible), I’m being provided medical/dental benefits, paid vacation and holidays, accumulated retirement and sick time (whaaaaaat?) – all the things I’d long-since abandoned and complete flexibility as to how I structure my time and total freedom to integrate my business, this business, my heart into
every day – not just some; no longer squeezed into the slightest open moments, my lunch hours, late at night, and during the dark morning hours far before any civilized human is awake, let alone out of bed and at their computer.

In the interest of transparency, it feels important to acknowledge not only how hard it is to grow an online business, but to name honestly that mine does not support me (yet). Oh, the progress I’ve made. Oh, the gift it’s been to watch its slow-but-sure movement and growth. Oh, the thrill to pay taxes that hurt just a bit this year – realizing I earned more than I’d saved for.

It feels important to acknowledge just how hard it is to press on and persevere as an entrepreneur when we see people around us who appear to have somehow landed on the perfect formula, the ideal business model, the phenomenal and endless client base. I don’t know if they have, or not.

What I know with complete certainty is that I have built a business, this business, my heart, while working like a crazy person, making huge compromises in many aspects of
my life, and somehow surviving. What I do know is that it has been – and continues to be – a TON of work (unpaid, paid, piece-meal, part-time, and combinations thereof).

I am still in shock, quite frankly, not yet able to grasp what it means that five whole days stretch before me this week – and many, many more to come – without the necessity of a calendaring system sophisticated enough for the Pentagon, with nothing other than yoga pants as dress code, with no lunch to pack, with no traffic to endure. Really, I can’t quite get my head wrapped around it. But my heart? It is certain. It is sure. It is full-to-overflowing.

It will be a glorious day indeed when I am writing the post about leaving behind even this job because my business, this business, my heart now makes enough to support me (or a very lucrative engagement happens or the book deal comes or I win the lotto).

That day I will do more than post a picture of a glass of champagne on Facebook. You’ll see me bathing in it!

This morning I read my Sunday pleasure, Brain-Pickings Weekly, and nearly came undone over this quote:

Start with a big fat lump in your throat. Start with a profound sense of wrong, a deep homesickness, a crazy lovesickness, and run with it. If you imagine less, less will be what you undoubtedly deserve. Do what you love. And don’t stop until you get what you love. Work as hard as you can. Imagine immensities. Don’t compromise and don’t waste time. In order to strive for a remarkable life, you have to decide that you want one. Start now. Not twenty years from now. Not thirty years from now. Not two weeks from now. Now.

Sometimes we don’t get to choose when we start. Events overcome. Layoffs happen. Change is forced.

Always we get to do what we love – even if it’s in the dark, behind the scenes, after hours, and barely noticed. 

And sometimes everything changes. Miracles happen. Perseverance pays off. Grace pervades. Champagne pours. *clink*