It’s 2021 and I’m 28 years old. I’ve been working for 7 years since graduating college in 2014 and this is my first real career break. I’m still employed, BUT it’s the first time in my adult life I haven’t been working for 4+ weeks straight (gratitude to my employer for working with me to arrange this). To properly reflect on how this upcoming month will change my perspective, I’m going to answer the same questions at the beginning and end of my 1-month career break.

I’m on Day 3 of my break. Had to spend the first couple days totally vegging out and resting. Right now, I’m on the patio of the Greater Goods Coffee Shop on 5th and Pedernales Street in Austin, sweating my ass off because indoor seating is closed due to COVID.

1. How do you feel about work?

Work is a necessary evil. Work is necessary. I can respect that it brings me closer to my goal of financial independence. Money-motivated work and I are not compatible though. Fire and ice. Oil and water. I’m willing to do a job well, but don’t think for a second it means I’ve bought into the idea we were meant to live this way — 40+ hours a week until our late 60s, a couple weeks of “time off” if we’re lucky.

I consider any work that is intrinsically enjoyable to be a hobby or a passion. As soon as we monetize it, it becomes a job, which to me feels like a chore. I don’t think I would enjoy a writing job any more than a recruiting job. It’s all forced labor at the end of the day. The reason I enjoy hobbies like writing is because I have complete freewill, all deadlines are self-imposed, and the work/joy is completely separate from my money.

The ideal FI/RE doesn’t stand for “retire early.” It stands for recreational employment. Money needs to be an afterthought for me to truly enjoy my job, which means I need to become Financially Independent before I entertain Recreational Employment. Well, maybe it’s a sliding scale as I get closer. I’m still figuring this part out.

2. How do you feel about money?

The pursuit of money is going to unlock more valuable parts in me. I used to say I loved money, but that’s not entirely true. I love the freer version of myself. I love when I have an abundance mindset. Money isn’t just a tool for living a better life. It’s a way of showing ourselves how powerful we are. And that’s never been determined by a dollar amount.

I still struggle breaking the tie between my earning power & my self worth though. It’s hard when it’s so intertwined with doing good work and being rewarded in a professional setting. I wonder if I’m slowly becoming too money-centric/greedy. People praise wealth-building for its ability to break generational curses and create opportunities, but it can also be an addiction. Like other addictions, if you haven’t experienced it firsthand, it’s difficult to explain why stopping is so hard.

3. What are your thoughts around financial independence?

Everybody wants it, but not everybody knows it. (🎶 Everybody dies but not everybody lives!) Money not being an issue opens up options for everyone. No matter what your life purpose, your dream becomes more attainable when you aren’t dealing with financial anxiety or insecurity. Having money allows you to focus on what you want, not what you need. It gives you the capacity to pursue engagements beyond your basic necessities.

I can’t wait to be fully financially independent. It’ll be bittersweet since I do enjoy the journey. Even as I’m building more of a safety net, I feel more control over my life. I have options. I have Fuck You money. Financial stability feels like reclaiming power from your employer:

“I’m not scared of you anymore. You wanna fucking try me today? Try me. Let’s see what happens.” *shakes my tiny fist at the air*

4. What’s the hardest thing about not being financially independent yet?

I’m a writer, which means I value self-expression. I love being able to say what I think, unfiltered. But in today’s digital age, where the boundaries between work and home life are eroding and every fleeting opinion is documented for eternity on social media, it’s increasingly hard to be two separate versions of yourself. Hell, it’s nearly impossible to shed your younger online persona, let alone the Current You that exists outside of work. When an employer hires you, they are hiring all of you, whether you/they like it or not. Anything you say publicly outside of work hours can be held against you. So when we talk about being “someone else” to hold down a job, you aren’t being that person for 40 hours. You have to be them 24/7.

It feels wildly oppressive to me—that to some degree I have to change who I am, what I stand for just to survive. That’s some bullshit. The thing I’m looking forward to most when I’m financially independent is not freedom of speech, but freedom from consequence.

5. What do you enjoy about still being on your money journey?

I think the Come Up story is inspirational. Humble beginnings. Overcoming adversity. I have a weird obsession with meeting the definition of “self-made,” which is so subjective/doesn’t really exist. I come from a lot of privilege (being raised by two parents, no student loans, being White-adjacent as a Chinese American, etc.) so I fear whenever I reach success, people can discredit my accomplishments. Maybe that’s why I’m so inclined toward hardship—to have some battle scars I can point to and say, “Hey! See? I struggled, too.”

We never make it alone though. I’m grateful for the community I’ve gained through my money journey, both strangers and reconnecting with friends/acquaintances in a new way.

I also enjoy how conflicted I feel right now about work & money. Because that relatability is what some people need to make changes in their own lives. I will get to the other side of this. And once I do, I’m coming like a monster truck for all the people who need that push, too.

6. How do you feel about your finances?

I feel proud of where I am financially. I have a substantial portion of my assets in the stock market working for me. My emergency fund could be beefed up, to be honest. It’s about 2-3 months of basic living expenses. Not awesome for pandemic times. I’m in the middle of reading “I Will Teach You To Be Rich” by Ramit Sethi and it feels nice that I’m already employing many of his recommendations. It feels like I’m on track. The biggest thing I need to work on is probably my mindset around spending money without guilt.

Ramit recommends allocating 20-35% of your income toward leisure spending. From my Jan 2021 to May 2021 data, I spend about 8.5% of my income on fun stuff (eating out, clothes, beauty, crafts & hobbies, and such).

My financial IQ is strong. My financial EQ? Needs improvement. The reason I’m so frugal is I can’t imagine any short-term expense that would bring me as much joy as never working again. Gotta find that balance.

7. How is your physical health?

I went to the chiropractor the other day for my 2nd adjustment. *Crack crack* My upper back has been killing me for a year+. Probably a mix of slouching over my laptop and not having an ergo setup. When I joined my current company, my physical health took a hit. I was way more sedentary than before. The sheer stress of being at hyper-growth company and always rushing to the next thing…I haven’t been taking care of my body the way I’d like. I did start running in January though. Been starting my mornings with it this week. (#conpointrun2021 on IG) Running has felt really good for processing my thoughts and anger.

8. How is your mental health & spirit?

*Sigh* I think I’m in a stable place now. But Q1 was an absolute shitshow. The light at the end of the tunnel for me was this break. I don’t know how I’d be if I didn’t have this time to myself. I’ve never been more worried for my mental health.

In Mandarin Chinese, there’s this word “mìng” — Google translates it to “life” but I think it’s closer to a soul, but deeper. Like the essence, heart, and humanity of person all wrapped into one. It’s one of those words I learned growing up where I couldn’t figure out the English translation. I don’t think it exists. It felt like my mìng was deteriorating this year and I was just watching it die.

When I was a kid, my mom talked about how some people don’t just trade their time for money, they gamble with their mìng.

Innocent me: “Why would anyone do that? I’ll never be one of those miserable adults.”

Adult me: AHAHAHHAHAHAH

9. How do you feel about where you are in life?

I think this month off will be one of the most transformative periods of my 20s, and even 30s. I’m happy with my on-paper accomplishments. The fact that I haven’t quit recruiting yet is fucking mind-blowing. I must hate or love myself. Probably both. I appreciate my grit & big picture mentality when it comes to designing my life. I’m very excited to see where I’ll be in 5 years. I’m excited to be where I am now.

10. What’s one thing you would change about your personality?

I have a lot of fury. About many things. Even as I’m editing this post, I’m like, “Maybe I should calm the eff down before I hit Publish.” Sometimes, it feels like if I weren’t this angry at the workforce, I wouldn’t be on this doggish, desperate pursuit for financial independence. If I weren’t this angry, would I be having an easier time? Could I enjoy my job & my life more if I didn’t think of it as a dire situation to escape? I’m absolutely pissed at least a couple times a day. But I’ve felt it for so long, I don’t know if I’ve confused it for passion or vitality. My passion for finance is a euphemism for my extreme resentment toward work and American hustle culture.

11. What’s one aspect of your personality you would share with others?

The way I love myself. The intensity. The loyalty I have for myself.

“Isn’t it cool how we get to wake up and be in the same person’s body everytime?” I asked my sister once.

“How else would it be?”

“If every 24 hours, we woke up as a different person, we would have no incentive to invest in our future.”

When we have the privilege of being ourselves every time, why wouldn’t we try to build a good future? Sometimes, I worry I love Future Connie too much. I could spare some of that love for Present Connie.

12. How do you feel about your work persona?

“Work Connie” is my professional persona. I created her because I quickly understood that my natural self couldn’t compete with the her earning potential, at least not in the context of performative, corporate environments. Work Connie generally knows how to say and do the right thing. She observes how other people get ahead at work and she mimics the behavior. It’s almost like Machine Learning—Work Connie is Artificial [Professional] Intelligence.

How do I feel about her? Hmm. Work Connie’s motivation is making money. And I don’t think anyone that obsessed with money can really be trusted on a personal level. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate what she’s done for me, but she is programmed to do the self-interested thing, not necessarily the right thing. Her code: I walk the path of least resistance to money. I’ve felt turmoil around whether it was morally corrupt to have a Work Persona.

Me: “Isn’t that kinda two-faced? Insincere?”

Work Connie: “Some of us have bills, Connie. You gonna pay those with your true colors? That’s what I thought. Now shut up and take me to work, we’re late.”

13. How do you feel about your authentic self?

I admire her courage, but I wonder if it’s misplaced. Authentic Me (I also call this conpoint) gets the glory while Work Connie gets to be made out as the Bad Guy. Work Connie bankrolls the safety net people often mistake as bravery. It’s easy to be “brave” when you have money to fall back on. It’s easy to risk something like a job when you can afford to lose it.

All in all, she’s aight. XD Authentic self can be lost once you start gaining a “platform” on social. I kinda hate that. While it’s awesome to be able to reach more people through writing, I don’t like the idea that people stop seeing me as a person. Even the terms content creator, financial blogger, finfluencer (as in financial influencer *gag*)…feel so jobby. Like I’m suppose to stand for certain things or be an Official Brand©. The evolution of a person becoming a business. Woof. I just want to say things with the normal liabilities & consequences, not the corporate ones? All the roses and thorns of putting yourself out there, I suppose. Yes, I accept the Terms & Conditions.

My passion for finance is a euphemism for my extreme resentment toward work and American hustle culture.

14. Are you happy?

In this moment, I am. I take a long time to write, so I’m no longer at the coffeeshop in Austin—I’m at my sister’s house in Georgia, drafting this mammoth blog post. I had dinner with my family last night. My niece woke me up this morning with the daintiest “wake up” whisper in the history of mankind. :,) She’s old enough to brush her own teeth now, it’s wild. I am madly in love with a man who is madly in love me. At the same time! How wonderful is that. And he texted me that Teddie misses me and has been waiting by the front and back doors for me to come home. I live a near-perfect life. Work is just a fly in the French Onion Soup of my life. And even then, sometimes he’s a nice fly, a guest accompanying me for dinner.

15. What is something you hope to learn about yourself? (After the break: What is something you learned about yourself?)

I wonder if I’m capable of relaxing. Seriously. Life has been pretty #countrypace these last few days. But I still have a lot of internal pressure to do stuff for @conpoint and take full advantage of writing time (for myself). There were a lot of exciting conpoint opportunities coming through this year, but work was so busy I couldn’t make time for them. So even though I’m resting for a month, I’m trying to cram in The Rest of My Life I’m used to de-prioritizing because of work.

16. How do you think you’ll feel after your career break?

I think I’ll feel enlightened. Even though I feel fluid in my life direction, I don’t think I really know it yet. In a couple weeks, after I’ve lived at a leisurely but self-disciplined pace, I will really believe my existence and purpose is of my own making.

I hope I feel less riled up haha. My job isn’t a bad place to return to—it’s a company of good people with cool projects & meaningful opportunities…that happens to be going through a bit of a rough patch. No matter how much I try to disconnect and let go, I’m really emotionally invested in my work, my org, my teammates, especially if I have a stake in their development. There’s a saying from my alma mater Carnegie Mellon that rings true, no matter how much I try not to care:

17. How do you think you’ll spend the next month?

I hope I finish a bunch of books! I have so many half-read ones, then I get new ones before finishing the old ones. A few on my bookshelf:

• Becoming by Michelle Obama
• I Will Teach You To Be Rich by Ramit Sethi
• On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong
• Your Money Or Your Life by Joseph R. Dominguez, Monique Tilford, and Vicki Robin
• The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks
• Anger by Thich Nhat Hanh

I’m also gonna run, play with the dogs, drink coffee. Eat my meals slowly. Write. Be stupidly honest about how I feel. Spend time with family. Block my social calendar during June & embrace solitude. Feel at peace. Breathe easy.

18. How do you think you’ll feel about returning to work?

I don’t think I’ll want to go back, but this is not news or a red flag. I’ve never wanted to return to work. This is a money career for me, not a passion career. Interest isn’t a prerequisite for my employment. Needing money is the prerequisite. So the good news (for my employer) is I will still need money in a month.

The empathetic part of me: How would I feel if I were my manager? There’s an employee who didn’t like work to begin with…taking a month break to recover from burnout…. I’d think: “This bitch has one foot out the door. She isn’t coming back.”

Optically, I can see how one would assume that. Which is why before I left, I gave my manager my word I was coming back. I respect my management chain, I care about them as individuals outside of work. I may not have an ounce of company loyalty, but I am fiercely people-loyal. I won’t do you dirty.

My word is my word. And if you can’t take my word for it, then cynically: I’ve been coming back to work against my freewill for 7 years. What’s another month, really? 😐

The things I think I’ll miss from work: the people, the feeling of mastery/accomplishment, the sense of community & winning as a team. My manager literally just texted me that I was nominated and won an award for excellence within my department. *sigh* I’m extremely grateful for my work situation. Makes me think: “hey Connie, maybe we be less of a salty bitch today? Whadya say?”

19. What do you want to say to Future You in 30 days?

I trust you. Remain unshakeable. YOU have the power to create time. The power to take it back. The onslaught of work stress is a fucking scam. You are a whole, human soul. A soaring spirit. Lemme ask you: Does a bird check email?

I am resolved in ruthlessly eliminating the things that violate my peace.

20. What do you want to say to Future You in 5 years?

Hey 33-Year-Old Connie! You look fine as fuck, you’re welcome for all the exercising I did. You are probably closer to financial independence than we’ve ever been. If not, then I’m proud of you for making that career switch or taking that risk because you realized our happiness was more important than our net worth.

*IF* you are still in the same conflicted headspace and need a push for change: I want you to recognize work is no longer your oppressor. You are. You’re choosing to stay when you have the means to leave.

One question for you: Do you feel at peace?

I—28-year-old You—am resolved in ruthlessly eliminating the things that violate my peace. I hope in growing older and wiser, this hasn’t changed for you.

No peace, no mercy.

21. Favorite song of the moment? 

“Angels Like You” by Miley Cyrus. It feels like a tribute from Authentic Me to Work Connie:

I know that you’re wrong for me /
Gonna wish we never met on the day I leave /
I brought you down to your knees /
‘Cause they say that misery loves company /
It’s not your fault I ruin everything /
And it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need /
Baby, angels like you can’t fly down hell with me /
I’m everything they said I would be.

See you all in a month for Part II, the “After” post!

When I was 21-22, my conflict was, “What do I do as a career?”

When I was 23-24, my conflict was, “What place do purpose and passion have in my day job?”

When I was 25, my conflict was, “Should I pursue professional writing as a full-time job?”

It wasn’t until I was 26 that I realized all these life questions were centered around the necessity of work instead of personal fulfillment. “But of course I have to work! I have bills to pay. Work is not optional for me.”

But what if—one day—it was?

For young people transitioning into the full-time workforce, one of the most daunting feelings is the 40 to 60-hour work week dominating “the rest of our lives,” or at least our good years. We worry we’ll be too old in retirement to enjoy life the way we can now—with our vitality, our ambition, our wanderlust, and our healthy bodies. 

Now that I’m 27, I’m asking a more holistic question that prioritizes my true desires: “How do I create a life where I spend more time doing things I love and less time doing things I don’t love?”

Answer: Save enough money to never work for a paycheck again and start incorporating the things I love into my daily life right now.

This is my path to financial independence, or in other words, a work-optional life where I do not need a job for money’s sake (passion-driven work is another story).

The best predictor of when I will reach financial independence is my current savings rate.

Savings Rate = money not spent / my post-tax paychecks

To calculate this and understand if this lifestyle feels sustainable, I first need to know where my money goes and how much of it.

Since January 1st, 2019, I’ve manually tracked every one of my expenses in a spreadsheet. If I spent money, it’s a line item: rent, car insurance, dinner dates, ride shares, a new dress, cash tips, donations, a cup of coffee. Every single thing. 

Here’s an overview of my June 2019 spending (this is just a portion of my monthly savings tracker):

My June savings rate was 48%.

In other words, Present Connie lived on 52% of her earnings and paid Future Connie 48%+ of her earnings (if you account for compound interest). How generous of me. 😊

The chart below is a projection of my retirement dates based on four different savings rates. I used a calculator that considered my current net worth + static income, and assumed a 5% return on investment and 4% withdrawal rate. The withdrawal rate is based on the Trinity Study, which shows 4% as the magic annual amount you can spend while making your wealth last “forever”/until you die. (A big statement, I know, details and arguments for/against it are all linked at the bottom on Mr. Money Mustache’s site)

I understand this is a very rough ballpark estimate—one that doesn’t account for pay increases, children, and unforeseen events like freak accidents (see: children) or winning the lottery. However, it is a spectacular way to quantify the factors that are predictable. More importantly, it is putting a price tag on the lifestyle I lead now and showing me exactly how my behavior shapes my future. Wild.

I’m not waiting until I’m 67 to retire. And if I continue to live and save as I do, I won’t have to.

I’ve made an active decision that I’d rather make small sacrifices now to take back potentially 20-30 years of my life, one where a week is measured in 168 hours and I’m free to plan my daily schedule around nothing more than sunrise and sunset.

This isn’t to say I despise my job or feel the paid workforce is something I desperately need to escape. Rather, it’s recognizing how happiness is entirely achievable on my own terms. My life does not have to align to societal norms of grinding until your golden years. There are things within my control right now that can increase the amount of freedom, flexibility, and stability I have in my 40s and beyond. That is powerful.

Beyond financial independence, this has been a way to self-soothe when I’m dealing with mental health issues like depression and anxiety. During the lows, it’s hard to believe my own mind. What I love about following a financial journey is data and numbers do not lie. They are objective and therefore more reliable than my scrambled and emotional mind at times.

• I may feel overwhelmed by work, but I can ground myself in the fact that I only have to do this for 15 more years if I stay disciplined—a whopping 25% of my total working years are already behind me.
• I may dread a Monday, but I can aim for 40% savings rate this month, which if sustained would eliminate 1,000+ Sunday Scaries from my future.

Talking about financial planning can be dry and boring, I get it. But when I think about the rewards of a future life I could have, my self-made freedom, it hits like whiskey. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever done. The safest drug and the highest high.

I’m a madwoman sunbathing in my laptop light, toggling account tabs, and reformatting formulas. I’m at the beginning of learning to make this work for me, yet I’m already in more control than I’ve ever been.

📙 Resources:

• Retirement Calculator: https://networthify.com/calculator/earlyretirement
• Trinity Study: https://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2012/05/29/how-much-do-i-need-for-retirement/
• Savings Rate: http://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2012/01/13/the-shockingly-simple-math-behind-early-retirement/

I started going to therapy this week.

My sessions are through a comprehensive emotional coaching app called Ginger, where I have 24/7 access to a real, live mental healthcare professional. I can text or video chat them whenever I need to talk.

I’m fortunate enough that employer’s healthcare plan provided this service to me for free. Therapy is expensive, so I wanted to call that out since money was a personal deterrent for not seeking help sooner, especially as someone who doesn’t consider myself to have serious mental health issues.

On paper, I have a pretty good life. In my initial consultation on Sunday, I told my coach how I had a supportive family, strong network of friends, a healthy relationship with my boyfriend, and a rewarding (though sometimes stressful) job….

Me: What I came here for was the lows—depression runs in my family. Every now and then things can feel overwhelming or without purpose. I think about it frequently and while I “have it together” from the outside, I’m seeking help about the internal dark clouds.

The dark clouds.

That heavy feeling from nowhere.

That nagging lack of meaning.

Me: Generally, my purpose is to write and love/help people, but then why do I question it still? So yes, that needs work…

Coach: You know that your purpose is well defined when you no longer have to question it. The fact that you still question it lets you know that either you are off the mark or it needs more definition. People tend to confuse their purpose with what they are good at.

That last line shook me. As someone who has always flinched at the possibility of failure, it would make sense that I latch onto a strength and designate it as my sole purpose in life.

Coach: Figuring out your purpose will be our first goal. Your primary focus should be to take meaningful steps toward your passion, thus defining your purpose. Once you have identified your purpose and start to operate within, the dark clouds will start to part and eventually clear.

I had shared some other stressors about my life with my coach, some of which are too personal or not entirely mine to share. So I hope you can understand that I’m telling as much as I can right now. With time, maybe I can go into detail about the rest.

***

My First Assignment

Coach: Imagine that tonight when you go to bed a magical thing happened. Someone waved a magic wand and created the exact life that you desire. Imagine that there are no obstacles, no worries about money or what others think. Just you and all of the inner most desires of your heart have come to reality. What does that look like?

Me: oh god lol

Coach: Be prepared to discuss this the next time we meet.

Me: Ok, that sounds fun and daunting.

***

I have the freedom of being one person, all the time.

I do not have to pretend to care about things I don’t care about. To keep appearances, to advance professionally.

I can say what I want without any fear of retribution or consequences in other aspects of my life, specifically the ones that support my livelihood.

Even better, my free speech—my true self—is what drives my life.

Maybe my words will help someone. Maybe people seek my opinion, my perspective, my advice. To heal others with what I say. To lighten the mood with my wit, and lessen the burden of life, even momentarily.

All my loved ones have more friends than they could possibly want. They are loved, platonically or romantically—whatever they need. They are never abandoned or disappointed by people not showing up for them. They are endlessly supported through healthy relationships with good and loyal people: mentors, partners, and like-minded individuals who encourage growth on their own terms.

All my loved ones are also fulfilled by hobbies or rewarding careers. They have accessible means of processing their emotions and they have centeredness and peace in their hearts. Therapy is free for everyone in the world, even people I don’t like.

My parents have enough money to never think about money again. This won’t buy happiness, but it will ward off the Fear of Being Without. It will open up the door to independence and the opportunity to pursue happiness in a way they’ve never considered before.

I do not have plenty of money. Rather, I have exactly the amount of money I have today. But I have the guarantee that if I pursue what I love, that I will not make any less money. Following my heart will not come at a sacrifice of my quality of life, or the promise of a stable future for myself and my loved ones.

My writing is never tainted by money. I never have to change what I write about to fit an assignment. I never have to write about something I don’t care about.

I never have to create sensational or viral content solely to grow my online presence.

I never have to disingenuously engage with a reader because I’m trying to build a brand.

Instead, I am as real in-person as I am online.

Instead, my Writing Me is the only Me.

My reach grows organically and I never have to hide my blog or my thoughts or my history. I never have to worry about being discovered.

I only do work that is important to my purpose.

I only live to be me.

Loudly, authentically me.

***

Photo courtesy of Pexels (Simon Migaj)

Six months ago, I was so excited to accept a contract at one of the nation’s best companies to work for. It felt beyond my reach, like the kind of thing that only happened to smarter people I knew in college, never me.

I’m now halfway through my contract, and I haven’t hit any of my milestones. What once started as the pinnacle of my professional success is now the most drawn-out, terminal diagnosis of Impostor Syndrome. And it feels incredibly defeating.

I let my guard down too soon, almost as if accepting that offer was the equivalent of a goalie celebrating a premature victory as a game-winning point is about to be scored under her nose. I can’t help but feel I’ve squandered someone else’s dream opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to really prove themselves.

There’s no pretty way to say it: I have a great job, but I’m not doing well in it.

In general, I hate being bad…at anything. My likes and dislikes are entirely dictated by where my natural skillsets lie. For example, I enjoy writing, dancing, and public speaking. I despise doing math, using technology, and talking about cars.

Sometimes, I don’t think I continue writing because I enjoy it. I only enjoy it because I’m better at it than other things. It’s actually my favorite thing to do because of all my relative strengths, it’s my best one.

On the flip side, I once agreed to try CrossFit with my boyfriend. After an hour of sloppily throwing up weights that were too heavy for me and grinding through circuits of box jumps and sit-ups, I waited until we were securely inside his car to unleash a faceful of hot tears.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again,” I told him, sobbing into his t-shirt. That was the first and last time I will ever do CrossFit.

The experience was my personal nightmare: Not only was I bad at something, I had to be publicly bad at it.

When I find myself in a situation where I don’t thrive, my instinct is to emotionally detach. It’s a defense mechanism to protect myself from the feeling of defeat. If I can convince myself that my priorities are far removed from what I’ve failed at, then I can believe the failure was a reflection of misplaced effort instead of me as a person or my true ambitions in life.

Lately, I’ve been telling myself: My job is not my life-long career or a source of fulfillment. It is a contracted responsibility, a legal obligation where I clock 40 hours a week to secure financial stability. Nothing more, nothing less.

My life would be a lot easier if I actually believed that.

The unfortunate reality is: I take my job very personally.

A job is not just a job to me—it’s a test of my ability to succeed and be good at something. I don’t mean to sound ambitious or overzealous about what a profession means to me, especially because that’s misleading; I’ve realized a pristine and proper career isn’t a life priority of mine (if that wasn’t clear from the raunchy and incriminating blog posts I promote on literally every one of my social media accounts).

It is just in my nature to try very hard at something—anything—that could reveal my weakness or inability. Heck, I take a game of Tetris as seriously as I do my job. It’s not that I have any real stakes in manipulating colorful shapes to fit together nicely. I just fucking hate losing and being bad at stuff. If I could actualize failure into a living, breathing person, I would jump that sucker in a dark alley and punch it until my knuckles were raw bone.

So why am I sharing my violent fantasies toward failure on this balmy Tuesday?

Beyond offering you some bathroom reading at the office, I think it’s important to share the times we feel at rock bottom, especially when people from the outside may mistakenly believe we are one of the lucky ones who “has it together.” Real life is not my edited resume or my LinkedIn bio or my shiny corporate job title.

The biggest disservice we can do to the younger generation is to be glamorous about such a gritty part of our adult selves: our careers. It’s wrong to pretend that we didn’t also question our direction in life at one time or another, to feign self-assurance as we bounced around the job market, and to reduce the complex strains of professional and personal gratification to humble-brag photos of our swanky downtown office.

That is smellier BS than the “What’s your greatest weakness?” question.

As taxing as our professional development may be, it’s worth noting that feeling defeated doesn’t necessarily mean you are defeated. In a classic story arc, the protagonist will always experience the crisis before reaching the climax, the turning point of their journey.

Our darkest times probably the best predictors of approaching dawn. It’s the only change we can notice from the adapted blackness of rock bottom. *cues My Chemical Romance*

As uncomfortable as it is to feel defeated, it is actually the best possible environment for growth.

Defeat necessitates that we acknowledge our starting point, which can feel like ground zero all over again. Defeat requires us to endure these moments of paralyzing stagnancy before we rise to action. Before we choose change. Before we overcome.

I’ve talked to a few coworkers in the same [seemingly sinking] boat, and contrary to our natural reactions, I’ve decided there’s no ROI in worrying.

One of two things will happen at the end of my contract:

1. I will have improved, and will continue to work at this company, or
2. I will not have improved, and will work elsewhere.

Not so bad, right? I’m sure worse things have happened to far better people.

With those outcomes in mind, I have a few actionable items in front of me:

1. Push through this feeling of defeat and try harder, work smarter, and keep at it until I succeed (or at the very least, don’t suck as much).
2. Push through this feeling of defeat and start building toward the next turning point of my career.

A smart person will pick one and commit. A smarter person will realize the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

The only thing that ties us to defeat is the belief we don’t have options. We always have options. I don’t know if it is truly our choice to feel defeated, but I know for certain it is our choice to stay that way.

***

More reading

→ It’s Okay Not To Be Passionate About Your Job

→ Area Woman Maintains Professional Persona Between Weekends of Getting Mercilessly Dicked

I’ve been watching many videos of Chester Bennington since his suicide last week. In one interview, he points an index finger at his temple and tells a radio host:

“When I’m inside myself, I’m in my own head. This place right here. This skull, between my ears. That is a bad neighborhood. I should not be in there alone. I need–I cannot be in there by myself.”

The radio hosts laughs and says, “What do you mean?”

His nonchalant response comes off as insensitive only because Chester did end up killing himself. I don’t fault the radio host; Chester even smiled through it to keep the interview conversational. Thoughts like Chester’s are only classified as symptomatic once it’s too late.

I browsed the comments section of this interview and found many people who could not understand:

• “Must be so tough having a millionaire musician lifestyle.”

• “There are people who have it way worse.”

No amount of wealth or privilege or even love guarantees invincibility from mental illness, or for those who are slow to pull the medical trigger, mental turmoil.

This kind of turmoil has nothing to do with what you have or don’t have. It’s not about counting your blessings or being grateful. It’s a state of “being” so far removed from how you actually live.

You can have a good job and generous cash flow, success and power, a fulfilling side hustle, family and faith, a community of friends to the point of social suffocation, attention and admiration from strangers, and those nice shiny shoes in the window.

It is possible to have all the conditions of happiness without feeling any of it.

Chester spoke of self-inflicted pain and being inside of himself, the internal struggle. When people asked what’s wrong, what happened today? I imagine he thought:

Well, there’s no immediate threat. The neighborhood is just unsafe.

One Matchbox Twenty lyric that always stuck with me is: “I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell. I know right now you can’t tell.”

Unwellness.

The state of being not okay.

People talk about the symptoms of depression as being cries for help. Save the ones in rough waters, flailing their arms for a life ring.

But that’s not what it looks like. Oftentimes, we can’t tell. Depression comes in all forms like a liquid taking the shape of a vessel, or rather, a host. Depression doesn’t discriminate. The extrovert is as susceptible as the introvert. The happy are no safer than the sad.

We’re suppose to lend a hand and a listening ear. Reach out to me if you have no one else. Talk to me.

But how do we know who to save when nobody looks like they’re drowning? It’s sunny. Hot sand, plastic coolers, colorful towels. Nobody actually dies at the beach because we all came here to swim.

So we swim.

Even when it feels like we’re not moving at all. Standing waist-deep in room temperature water, existing in two wildly different states that feel exactly the same. Whether we’re planted on our own two feet or bottom up, nostrils bubbling underwater, legs forked up like antennas from a calm, glass surface.

Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

If you hate talking on the phone like me, you can also reach Crisis Text Line by texting HOME to 741741. https://www.crisistextline.org/