I’ve had a perma smile plastered on my face for the majority of the last 24 hours.
But as colleagues’ emails began to trickle in as the news leaked that I was quitting to pursue a “personal endeavour,” my feelings of unadulterated joy were punctured by brief moments of panic:
“You’re quitting your job? Wow. That’s brave.”
“I heard you’re starting a business! Cooool! What is it going to be?”
“What? Why? Are you sure this is a good idea??”
People’s reactions were mostly positive and supportive, but there was an unmistakable underlying tone of confusion and disbelief that I was quitting my steady job to pursue an uncertain passion.
So I did what every grown woman would do in this situation. Crouching in the corner of a dark office supply closet – hiding from the throngs of well-meaning colleagues visiting my desk to confirm the news – I called my mom.
In long run-on sobbing sentences I bemoaned my newfound self-employed status and word vomited my fears as ineloquently as possible into the receiver. She took a brief pause and calmly stated:
“I’m not worried. I know you will always figure things out, no matter where life takes you.”
I exhaled. I knew she was right (because that damn woman is always right!).
I am going to figure this out. The hardest part I have been struggling with for 6 years is over.
Current status:twirling in my office chair / counting down the days / #YOLO