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!

Q: “How do you handle sharing so much about your personal life (finances, sex, failures, free time)?“

conpoint: Such a great question. I have many, many thoughts about this, so gonna break it into 3 parts.

1. Life as a Story for Death

When I consider what to share online, I think about dying, honestly.

I think about the very real possibility of not living to see 30. The tragedy of dying young.

And I think about how deeply I’d regret not saying the things I wanted to say, unfiltered. How disappointed I’d be for living a life of fear instead of one of truth. For holding back on offering the world…something. Myself.

I don’t want to live without being understood. It is far worse to be loved as someone else than disliked for who you really are. I fear people not knowing the real me, and it’s one of the biggest reasons I have issues with maintaining a professional persona to hold a day job. So much time spent not being Me.

I don’t believe in any kind of afterlife, so personally, it’s important I make things happen in this lifetime, my only one. The best things that will ever happen to me will occur before my death, at least those I can bear witness to and experience first-hand.

I think of my life as a way to control the narrative of my death. The things I’m doing right now are the source code for my obituary, social media memorializations, and how people remember me. There will be small talk between those who knew me and knew of me.

“Did you hear about Connie? So sad.”

And they’ll scroll through the last few things I posted, recent pictures and status updates, as if trying to piece together the last live version of me as a mental keepsake. That’s why it’s important to look good in pictures and write real shit. 😉 Could be your last.

I hope to someone else’s God the last thing I ever write is honest, if nothing else. If people are going to talk about me, I want to make sure it’s actually me they’re talking about. It matters less whether it’s a good or bad review.

2. But What Will People Think?

Ok, so the writing is out there. But now come the sharks of human commentary…OPINIONS! *shrieks*

For those who’ve followed me more recently, I used to write about love & sex as much as I currently write about finance. That was my “thing.” Dating and having a really hard time with it, then lashing out at men and monogamy. That’s my best summary of conpoint circa 2014-2017. It is what it is.

I’ve gotten a few variations of this question:

“Do you ever worry about your coworkers reading your writing?”

I assume they mean the raunchy stuff. Show me a single coworker who thinks I’m sitting at home with an aspirin between my knees and I’ll show you a blog post about sex that didn’t change any prior assumptions about me.

The thing about “to share or not to share” is it doesn’t change the reality of what is happening in my life. This is *my* life—why am I allowed to live it, but not talk about it? It’s some ass-backward thinking. Especially the double standard for women. Sometimes, I think my dream job is being a money & sex consultant. I go places and help people feel more comfortable talking about the two. Then they go and get the money & sex they deserve and we all live happily ever after.

I feel a duty to talk about the things women are told not to talk about. Maybe if I’m being open about it, if I persist and share that it’s been a positive experience overall, more women will feel empowered to talk about it, whatever *it* is. 

One of the reasons I encourage speaking your mind is the fact most people already have their minds made up about you.

If people like you, they’re inclined to find the good. If people don’t like you, they’re inclined to find the bad. If people are whole, they spread kindness. If people are hurt, they spread hate.

Prime example: When I finished my 66 Days Of No Sex challenge, I hosted a Q&A where anonymous commenters could ask me about the journey. Most questions were awesome and insightful. But one person took advantage of keyboard courage and slut-shamed me.

Let’s recap quick: I, a woman, wrote a series about giving up sex for a period of time. And I succeeded in that. And then someone called me a slut.

You can’t win, ladies.

If you’re interested in my reply to the commenter, it’s question #4 here. Make sure you pull up a chair so you can tell him to sit down after reading. Was about to buy that gentlemen a one-way ticket to Get Fucked, USA.

This commenter was prepared to come at me before I wrote a word about sex. One of my favorite quotes by Don Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements:

“But it is not what I am saying that is hurting you; it is that you have wounds that I touch by what I have said. You are hurting yourself. There is no way I can take this personally.”

When you put yourself out there, you run the risk of having haters coming out of the woodwork to put you down. That’s life. But know it isn’t personal. You were just there for the recoil of their pain. You will always meet people where they are. You can’t control catching someone on a good day.

The amazing thing is—and I do still believe—most people want to be kind. Never let the haters stop you from connecting with the lovers. There are so many good people to meet. More on that in the last section.

***

While I am unconcerned about the opinion of coworkers, I used to be worried about my writing posing an issue at work itself. The shoe finally dropped at a previous employer when I was pulled aside by HR for the “explicit nature” of my blog (ha!). 

The fear of the unknown is much worse than when shit actually goes down.

It’s hilarious in hindsight, but it was a bit scary at the time. I was early in my career and not as financially secure as I am now. I had more at stake if I lost my job. While I wasn’t fired, I worked out a deal with them where I could continue writing under a pen name and disconnect any writing from my LinkedIn. That’s kinda the backstory of using conpoint vs. branding everything with full name even though that was my initial hope as a blogger. I had major issues with “being someone else.” If it were up to me, I’d be Connie FUCKING [last name redacted]!!

After the initial conversation with HR, I remember thinking: “If I am asked to stop writing, I am prepared to walk away from this job.”

It was a life-changing moment. It was the type of enlightenment you can only get when faced with a real-life decision instead of a hypothetical.

I may not have chosen writing as my job, but that day, I chose writing over my entire career.

Ever since, my priorities have been very clear. I’m ready to choose writing over everything. I do think I’ll come to a crossroad again because of my blog. When or where, I don’t know. But I know my decision.

3. Nobody cares, but you do matter

Growing up, I was self-conscious about what people thought. From what I wore to how I spoke, I felt under a microscope for everyone else’s judgement. My mom told me, “everyone is too worried about themselves, they aren’t even paying attention to you.”

It wasn’t until I started my Facebook writing page that I found her words to be painfully and statistically true. Since it’s a business page, I have access to analytics on audience engagement and reach. If you ever want to humble yourself, open a business page and look at the hard data of how many people scroll right pass what you have to say.

An example: If my post gets in front of 1,000 people (reach) and gets 50 likes (engagement), then my engagement rate is 5%. 

I recently learned from my friend @juliepierre_art that the industry average is 8-9% and “good” is anywhere from 10-15%. My personal benchmark and definition of good was a 10% engagement.

In other words, if 90% of people ignore me, I’m like, “Nice! That’s some good stuff right there. Super pleased.”

When you worry about what people think, it’s based on an inflated sense of self—the idea that other people spend time thinking about you. 

The reality is most people don’t care much if at all about you and your life. I mean that in a liberating way, not a cynical one. It really is nothing personal. Everyone has their own lives and problems to deal with. They’re busy. They’re pressed on time and energy. Being indifferent is not a personal attack. Being preoccupied is not a personal attack.

This is actually great news for anyone who has reservations about opening up. It means that you don’t have to worry about what 90% of people think because they aren’t going to realize or care that you opened up at all! Fantastic.

I love this because it makes putting yourself out there less intimidating. It’s like someone opened up two giant double doors and said, “Welcome to the World of Self-Expression. Say anything you want. Almost nobody is listening!” The guy hands you a mic. It doesn’t work. You look down and realize you’re just holding a hotdog.

But in all seriousness, this is a great way to start feeling safe. Safe from scrutiny and judgement, safe from nasty commentary, safe from any actual attention. Nobody cares. And now you can just think about getting your thoughts out there vs. worrying about how it will be received.

How I operate: “Nobody thinks about me. Nobody gives a fuuuuck about me.” It may feel that way sometimes because I *am* me and all my interactions with people are usually about them or me. 50/50.

But I, like everyone else, live in a Me-centric world. My understanding of my importance is skewed. But as mother knew best: everyone is too worried about themselves.

Now let me hit you with a beat because what I’m about to say is super fucking important and will have you feeling good again:

It takes one person to change your life.

One idea.

One realization.

One sentence.

Just one.

You may be just one person that 90% of people ignore. But you still have the potential to change someone’s life. You even have the power to change the lives of complete strangers. Dozens, hundreds, thousands.

Everyone is born with influence. Not everyone uses it.

Your sphere of influence is massive and that’s a data point that can’t be tracked. Who is to say the person who never engaged with your post didn’t take something away from it? Who is to say your passing comment didn’t already change someone’s life?

When I have the opportunity to interact with the 5-10% of people that read my writing, it feels like the full 100%. I’ve received messages from friends and total strangers I would later cry about. Messages expressing how my writing helped them through a hard time, how they could relate, how they were glad somebody was talking about it, and most importantly, how they felt less alone. And some of these came from distant acquaintances, people I never thought would be in these positions, people I didn’t think about at all.

The power of your influence is beyond you. You don’t control where the ripples go. You don’t control where your impact lands. And the surprise of it is the hardest dopamine hit I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve been very fortunate that when I am vulnerable online, I am met halfway. When I go first, others lean in. When I open up, people also let me into pockets of their lives.

None of us are so unique that we are truly in something alone.

***

I was having my first panic attack ever in the lobby of my office building. I was squatting on the floor, sobbing and heaving. A woman approached me and asked me if I was alright.

“I’m fine,” I said through tears. “It’s just work.”

And she said, “Oh honey, no job is worth this.”

The next week I quit my job. I will never be able to find out who that woman was, but she changed my life. With a single comment, she changed the trajectory of my career, the boundaries I would set for work and my well-being, and the standards I would have for my happiness.

It only takes one.

***

So getting back to your initial question: How do I handle it? Saying private things in a public forum?

The consequences of staying quiet are far too severe. We need not struggle alone. We need not suffer alone. We need not mull over our lives in these little boxes of privacy and politeness. Humans are capable of complex communication for a reason—we are meant to connect and push back against anything and everything that tells us otherwise.

We are meant to talk about love and fear and trauma and sex and shame and romance and anger and loss and joy and loneliness. If God is real and He decides my time is up, my afterlife is in the words on this page. It lives in the threads and replies and direct messages of two humans trying to beat a society of clinical conversations.

Everything is up for discussion. Today, everyday, nothing is off-limits.

To not share about my life is to die right now.

Thank you, very much, for the question. I love you dearly, “stranger.”

I like fielding questions on my Instagram stories, so follow me here if you wanna catch those.

If you’d like to submit a question anonymously, ask me anything here and I may pick it for the next conpoint Q&A. Thanks for reading, I know this one was a novel. 🙂

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)

Welcome to my first conpoint Q&A!

Thanks so much to those who reached out this first round and humored me with some questions. 😛 Just because your question isn’t included below doesn’t mean I won’t use it in the next one! :p I’m collecting Qs on a rolling basis, so as long as the link is working, please keep sending your anonymous questions ⇢ HERE ⇠

I’m all ears! 🐰 Now let’s hop to it, punny rabbit… *cringesmiles*

1. Do you think love is a choice? As in, do you think we’re all work-in-progresses, and therefore imperfect, and there’s no perfect fantasy person for you out there? What defines a healthy relationship to you? I think a healthy relationship is one where you show up every day and actively choose to support your partner’s decisions and self-improvement journey, while working on your own.

Love is not a choice, but your life that revolves around it is. This includes the sacrifices you make for love, who you choose to be in a relationship, and most importantly, your priorities and boundaries in love.

We’re well beyond fantasy love these days. I think everyone understands there’s no Mr. or Mrs. Perfect. The hard part now is: “Who is good enough?”

I don’t believe loving someone is enough of a reason stay with them—I actually think that’s the most bullshit justification for staying in a relationship. You can love anyone, it doesn’t mean it’s the good kind.

Love is an ingredient for a relationship, it cannot be the recipe.

I’m so glad you called out healthy relationships! Your definition is spot-on—a healthy relationship is one where you are an active advocate for you and your partner’s growth. It’s also one where you support their *smart* decisions. Sure, subjective.

I think you can unconditionally love a person without unconditionally supporting all their decisions. We’re human, we make bad calls sometimes, and it is invaluable to have people in your corner who love you enough to call you out.

• Healthy love is one where both partners can openly communicate their needs and concerns.
• Healthy love is when you both contribute your best selves to the relationship, in your own unique ways.
• Healthy love is when you are unquestionably appreciated for who you are and all you do for the other person.

Here are my red flags for unhealthy love:

• You feel like your partner doesn’t *see* or *hear* you sometimes, like your presence has less weight than theirs.
• You find yourself questioning whether this is truly a partnership, ex. You invest a lot, they invest a little.
• People who know you best express concern about your well-being in the relationship.
• You have those fleeting thoughts that you deserve a better situation, a better life.
• You are motivated to stay with this person because you contrast it with being alone, and that scares you.

None of these definitive deal-breakers, but they are feelings to recognize and take seriously.

Only you can assess your relationship. Only you can understand the inside perspective. Only you can prevent forest fires (had to!).

Love is both hard work and an effortless decision, if that makes sense.

You can’t choose the love you receive, but you can always choose the love you’re willing to accept.

I hope for you that it is only the most healthy and fulfilling kind. 💛

2. Do you want to have children? Can you please comment on the decision to have children for a woman in the age range of 28-40? I am consistently thinking about this decision I feel I am faced with and coming to an understanding with myself and my partner. I’m currently leaning towards not wanting to have children given my lack of interest. My partner is very interested and believes that I am not ready yet. If I were to have children, I would be very happy to have them with him, however, and that is the contributing factor to my pro-children side. My thoughts are very scattered as you can probably tell, but I’m very interested to hear the perspectives of others in my similar situation (not that you are necessarily).

*sigh* I feel this very much and thank you for asking this question.

I don’t know if I want children.
I’m also leaning toward No because I’ve never liked babies or kids, and I can’t imagine eagerly stepping into the role of a mother. *pulls burnt peach cobbler out of the oven* At the same time, I may just not be ready now. If I found out having a family was not an option for me in the future, I would be disappointed.

I’m very torn, too, clearly. I know my boyfriend likes kids, and wants a son he can play with one day. But I can’t say I’ve ever fantasized about having my own children.

Like you, part of my motivation would be my partner. I think he’d be a great father. Then again, I’m also too awesome of a person *not* to pass on my wisdom and good genes. 😉

I am 26 and keenly aware that I have <4 years to decide whether I want to give birth (if I am even able), before time starts working against me. And that’s fucking scary.

To answer your second question: No, I won’t comment on that decision because it is none of my business what another woman chooses to do with her body between the ages of 0-100+. 🙂

What I will say is there is an increased risk when giving birth after the age of 30. This is science, not my opinion. Do women in their 30s+ give birth to healthy children? All the time! I’m simply saying there’s a risk to be acknowledged, and I have no authority to decide whether another couple should or should not take that risk. That is up to you and your partner, with the consultation of a medical professional.

My stance on deciding to have children at all is the same as obtaining sexual consent: if it’s not enthusiastic, don’t go through with it. This isn’t deciding to buy a lamp at Ikea, where passive acceptance is okay. This is claiming responsibility for a human being for 18+ years and ideally, loving them for life. Parenthood is unfathomably hard (from my outsider observation). You cannot choose what hardships you’ll face as a parent, but you can choose whether that hardship is worth it to you.

Especially as a woman, I understand it’s taboo to openly say you don’t to be a mother. I’m telling you: it is okay to live your life. It is okay not to want children for any reason or no reason at all. It’s like cilantro. You don’t need a fucking reason. You like it or you don’t.

Between you and your partner, openly discuss this question:

• For the sake of our long-term happiness as individuals, does it make sense for us to stay together or part ways?

Say everything on your mind. Cry. Explain. Hug. Name your priorities. Name the regrets you don’t want in life.

This is no easy conversation, but it will only get harder the longer you delay it. You and your partner each deserve to pursue the lives you want, and if your future plans don’t align, it’s better to know sooner rather than later.

You can love someone dearly and not be on the same page. That is okay.

Check out this Reddit thread about couples who are 50+ who chose not to have children. What hurts to read? What resonates with you?

I sincerely hope for the best outcome for you and your partner, whatever path that may be. 💛

3. What is your take on women not choosing to give birth and adopting? My spouse & I have been pondering around adoption — but the wife isn’t sure if she wants to give birth or adopt. And [I’m] like, it’s your choice first — whatever you go choose. I just want a kid whenever we are ready (probably in a 2-3 yr timeline).

I’ve answered some of your question above, but to add on, I think adoption is a wonderful option for those who are open to it. Providing a loving home and second chance for a child in the foster care system is amazing, and I commend you for considering it. Until there are zero kids in the system, I think all couples and single expectant parents should discuss the possibility of adoption, even if the ultimate decision is no.

It’s great that you are being patient and supportive of your spouse’s decision — sounds like the ball is in her court right now. You mentioned a timeline of 2-3 years before you two are ready, is your spouse is onboard with that timeline as well?

It’s worth considering whether her indecision is about “giving birth vs. adopting” OR the decision to have children at all.

As you read above, a great partner can be a motivator for someone who didn’t initially want children. Please revisit this to be 100% you two are pondering the same question right now.

Understand she may never be ready. Understand she may be afraid to tell you, for fear of losing you.

Understand you are in no way a bad person if you must end the relationship over this.

It’s not an ultimatum—it’s you being a responsible person who is trying to respect the wishes of two separate people with two separate ideas of the future.

If having a kid—biological or adopted—is a non-negotiable for you, be honest about that. Start a conversation where your wife feels safe to express her true feelings as well. There are many things you compromise on in a relationship, but children should not be one of them if either of you feels adamantly.

You’ve been flexible about this decision, but know you have a say, too. This is also your parenthood, your life. Two or three years will be here before you know it, but that decision will shape the life you live 20 years from now.

Make the necessary decision, not the easy one. Your future self will thank you.

If you are both truly onboard with having a family, write a pros and cons list for giving birth vs. adopting. Write these lists independently first, then have an open discussion about each of your lists.

Beyond that, do either of you know parents who have adopted? I can only offer so much advice as a childless adult, so maybe hearing someone else’s experience will be helpful. Even the experience of those who were adopted themselves. You also have the option to consider adoption AND giving birth if you want multiple kids.

It’s clear that having a family is important to you. Throughout all these discussions, remember what is important at the end of the day. Then you’ll make the right decision.

Wish you and your future fam the absolute best! 💛

4. How is sex with your boyfriend different from previous flings? What is better? Worse?

Sex, I believe, has always been an emotional thing for me. When I was single, I went through a phase where I didn’t treat it as such, and as a result, it caused me a lot of sadness.

There were times I expected partners to treat me as someone they loved instead just someone they just made love to, and those were poor expectations to have.

When I was 19 (in my last committed relationship before now), I remember playing a drinking game and saying, “Never have I ever had sex with someone I didn’t love.”

When that statement was no longer true, I entered a pretty bitter stage of my life of both wanting and resenting love.

Through late-college and early adulthood, I went through the motions of dating or whatever the fuck “we’re talking” means. I took what I could get, which was mostly emotionally detached sex (from either me, him, or both).

Even though casual sex didn’t fulfill me emotionally, it did satisfy the part of me that pined for “the chase.” I had a pretty male mindset of hooking up—I loved bar-hopping, scoping out the place, and rising to the challenge of “getting” someone I had my eye on. I was enthralled by the prospect of a conquest.

As someone who was addicted to the novelty of someone new and doing something for the story, I wound up chasing experiences and people that didn’t necessarily fulfill me in ways that mattered, living for a bucket list of hook-up stories that were retold with more fervor than what I experienced in real-time.

If I had to compare sex with flings to sex with my boyfriend, I’d say the former makes me feel accomplished and whereas the latter makes me feel adored.

When I have sex with my current boyfriend, the attraction feels continuous. I feel desired before, during, and after sex. It feels like the most wholesome non-wholesome thing two people can do. It’s a level of comfort and vulnerability I’ve never reached with my exes, to no fault of theirs or mine. We were simply less compatible.

I’m now able to be completely honest, relaxed, and open about what I like and need, and as a result, I’m having the most satisfying sex I’ve ever had. I never thought I would get over my novelty phase, that penchant for limitless variety, but there comes a point where quality trumps quantity.

There is no right way to enjoy sex, and you can enjoy it in multiple ways. There is no shame in casual sex. There is no shame in committing to one person or even saving yourself for marriage.

To me, fling sex vs. relationship sex is like comparing the thrill of skinny dipping vs. the feel-good jitters of all your best friends showing up for your surprise birthday party. Playful banter vs. a deep conversation.

Sex is a personal choice, and personally, I prefer what I have right now.

***

Are you interested in submitting an anonymous Q?

Ask me anything here <– As long as the link is active, I am getting notifications when new Qs come and will answer the most interesting ones in my next Q&A. Thanks for your questions, they’re really intriguing!

Photos courtesy of Tan Danh, Josh Willink, and Kaboompics from Pexels

In light of my 26th birthday today, I wanted to share a few (or more) realizations I’ve had over the years. Some were hard-earned lessons while others were subtle iterations of what I already knew. Here are the things I’d tell a younger Connie, as it relates to passion, work, relationships, life, and everything in between.

***

1. Stop looking for happiness from a job. Look for happiness in a job. Often, it is in the people.

2. Value the friends who tell you the hard truths and put your welfare above your perception of them. You know that part that stings when someone criticizes you? That’s called the truthful part, and it hits on what you already believe about yourself. Listen to why someone called you out, not how they did it. Then be open-minded to improving in that area.

3. People treat you the way they feel about themselves. Don’t take it personally.

4. The temporary discomfort of saying “No” is better than the long-lasting dread of plans you committed to out of guilt and obligation.

5. Don’t let anyone shame you for your sexuality—the way you choose to love, to touch, to share your heart and your body. Your sexuality is yours. The only thing you should encourage anyone to do when it comes to sex is getting tested regularly. (Seriously, you could save someone’s life!)

6. Stop paying for stuff with your debit card. Do some research on credit cards that will give you the best benefits for your spending habits.

7. If you’re frustrated with someone in a professional setting, remember they may just be doing their job. They don’t want to be in this position or situation any more than you do. They don’t want to be having these uncomfortable conversations. Sometimes, it is strictly business. If you can empathize with anything, empathize with the fact that most of us are slaves to the dollar in some capacity. Everyone has pressures of their own, things that are out of their control, things they may not agree with but have to do anyway, just like you.

8. You don’t owe anyone your time. It’s okay NOT to go on a second date even though he’s a decent guy. It’s okay NOT to reply to your friend’s text right away.

9. If you think fondly of someone, let them know.

10. Before you blame someone or something else, ask yourself: “How did I contribute to this problem? What can I do to fix it?”

11. The person who you think doesn’t deserve you? They probably don’t.

12. Neutral friendships can be just as bad as toxic friendships. Your time is limited. Don’t let long, empty weekends deceive you into thinking you will live forever. You will die one day. Spend your life with people you actively enjoy.

13. Learn to analyze your hatred and love of things.

• Do you really hate your job? Or is it the paycheck that bothers you? Is it the nature of your role, the specific company, or the type of people you work with? Is it your expectations of what a job can do for you?
• Do you really love this guy? Or is it the attention you’ve always wanted? Is it the stability that staves off comparatively awful feeling of loneliness? Is it your expectations of what a relationship or sex can do for you?

14. If you’ve already decided you’re gonna eat the cookies, then enjoy every second without an ounce of guilt!

15. Spend less time being frustrated about what you can’t control. Redirect your anger into actionable items.

16. If you can financially afford it, quit the job that’s making you miserable.

17. Contribute generously to your savings account. Money can’t buy you happiness, but it can buy you the freedom to walk away from a situation that makes you unhappy.

18. People cannot waste your time if you do not allow them your time in the first place.

19. A different life is possible. Change is not something that magically happens to other people. You were not born to be uniquely miserable. You prefer it seem that way so you can excuse yourself of any ownership over your happiness. See where that takes you. Once you hit a wall, make some changes and live the life you were always capable of having.

20. Your employer doesn’t owe your passion anything. You chose this career path, or at the very least, you signed the offer letter. So check yourself, check your attitude and realize maybe, just maybe, your professional dissatisfaction is self-inflicted.

21. It’s okay to believe certain people, places, things, or situations should go fuck themselves. As much as you can manage, express these thoughts in an appropriate place, like behind closed bedroom doors with all your home listening devices disconnected and submerged in water or on your public blog, if you absolutely must. ;0

22. Know your worth and honor it (both financially and in general). Asking for more money does not automatically make you entitled or greedy. Especially for women: When it comes to vouching for your rightful pay, be bold about asserting your worth. It is a STANDARD. It is not up for discussion.

23. Don’t prematurely disqualify yourself from a job. Because somewhere out there is an equally “unqualified” person who will thank you for stepping out of their way. Apply. Apply. Apply. Everyone is unqualified until they get the job that makes them qualified. 🙂

24. Don’t be so quick to give up on love. If you can’t stretch your optimism that far, then simply believe there are still good people out there. You have a ton of single friends that are great catches, don’t you? Then believe that somewhere out there, there’s someone’s amazing friend who you will come to see romantically.

25. Embrace being a writer. You always do this thing where you dismiss it, talk down on yourself, or qualify that you “only do it as a hobby.” Stop that shit. Deep down, you identify as a writer more than anything else in life. Own it. Own the things you love. You are a writer. You never have and never will need a paycheck to prove that.

26. The things you were looking forward to some day are happening right now.

***

**many of these realizations were inspired by the wisdom of my friends and mentors, and from reading:

• The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz
• How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
• 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey

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/

I love Sundays. Time to reflect on the week ahead, the life ahead. I’ve been reading Blaine Harden’s “Escape from Camp 14” about one man’s journey from birth inside a North Korean labor camp to freedom and enlightenment in the outside world (I highly recommend this book!). The protagonist Shin describes his fellow prisoners as he planned his escape, and this line really stuck with me:

“They were like cows, he thought, with a cud-chewing passivity, resigned to their no-exit lives.”

Even in the free world, many of us remain complacent about lives that don’t do us justice. We function in a way that guarantees our short-term sustenance, like a cow filling its belly to sleep well for the night. And the longer we lead these comfortable lives, the harder it is to imagine starving temporarily to feast like kings. It takes persistence to endure the long haul. It takes sacrifice to see a world beyond what we know.

Of course, it’s hard to imagine—we haven’t experienced it yet.

Our inability to envision better days does not, and should not, undermine our will to work toward something greater. Even in its obscurity, it’s a chance to improve life as we know it. Early explorers didn’t think to themselves, “We shouldn’t embark on this voyage until we know exactly what the New World looks like.”

We’re in a great place to be chasing better days because there’s a 99.9% chance our journey won’t cause us to die from dysentery. Let’s count our blessings here.

Stepping back from lollipops and daisies dream-chasing, I get we have bills to pay. We have rent due. The big O they told us about in sex ed actually turned out to be Obligation to pay off student loans. We have foundational needs that make us chew the cud until our jaws ache.

These are aspects of life—not life itself. 

Another poignant part of the book: When Shin is on the brink of making a run for it, he has an “if not now, when?” moment. Then he takes off in a dead sprint.

When I was in kindergarten, I wanted to be an inventor or scientist. In junior high, that changed to an interior designer, and in high school, a lawyer. I’m two years out of college, and likely my aspirations, both professional and personal, will change in the coming months. But wherever to my sights are set, my commitment is to hunt with an insatiable hunger. We’re in the age of execution. Less “I want to be…” and more “I’m working toward….”

Our enlightenment won’t be as drastic as that of a labor camp escapee from the reign of a wicked, brown-eyed Pillsbury Doughboy. We have the privilege of scooting along in our lackadaisical ways with no threat of punishment, and also no potential for reward. Windows half-open, stomachs conditioned to be full before dessert, this is comfortable living.

But feed cannot substitute internal fuel—our unquenchable human desire to achieve and create, to help others and stand for something, to be great and remembered.

The fence cannot replace the horizon.

We are not cows. We were not meant to merely survive, but to live and live famously.

I work in the fast-paced, high-demand world of biopharmaceutical recruiting. On a daily basis, I connect professionals to companies where they will discover and develop game-changing medicine and technology. These are the bright minds eradicating diseases that plague strangers to dearly loved ones, the thought leaders curing sicknesses that threaten even their own bodies—somehow, they got stuck talking to me.

On top of being immersed in a compelling industry that has a direct contribution to human welfare, I work for a company with a conscience. Our core values were chosen by popular vote in a company-wide, open forum discussion, which was pretty cool. The leadership is inspirational and I have the privilege of learning directly from my CEO on a weekly, if not daily basis. I’m appropriately recognized, and have been promoted twice within my first year, which is LinkedIn profile gold and every millennial’s professional wet dream.

My direct managers are brilliant mentors who have a personal investment in my success—and it doesn’t hurt they share my weird sense of humor. On a deeper level, I believe my coworkers are people who do the right thing. I actively look forward to seeing them everyday, at the many company-hosted social events and self-planned Sunday brunches.

Honestly, I have it good. I’ve been given second chances, accolades for my progress, and now high-level responsibilities I didn’t think I was prepared to handle. My projects are a source of pride and accomplishment, both as an individual and as a collective. I’m presently challenged and guided on a tangible path for advancement. My job is ultimately to help people lead better lives. Between the hours of 9am and 5pm, I find myself smiling a lot.

Would I say I am passionate about my job? Not at all.

Passion implies a deep and intrinsic enthusiasm for something, a manic obsession and inextricable part of who you are. You think about your passion every day. You dream of it awake. Even when life has taken you in a different direction, you are inclined to your passion like a moth to a flame, even when it doesn’t make any sense.

It is not a choice to have a passion—your passion chooses you. It can be impractical, inconvenient, and downright stupid to love what you love. But all the drawbacks are worth that high feeling, that warm hug of belonging that says, “This is what I was meant to do.”

My job is not my passion.

I don’t know when careers were deemed one size fits all solutions to cloak us with complete life satisfaction. It’s ambitious to expect a job to provide your bread and butter and authentic emotional fulfillment. As much as we would like, happiness is not covered in the standard healthcare plan. When I signed my offer letter, I committed my hard work, not my heart.

We don’t peruse the produce section for a decadent dessert, so why are we disappointed when our workplaces aren’t a bountiful source of paradise’s hottest commodity, Passion with a capital P?

I don’t mean to present passion and profession as mutually exclusive—many have succeeded in making their passions their careers. It’s possible, but not realistic for everyone. More commonly, I think people learn to find passion in their careers, which is an excellent use of synthetic happiness, a feeling you create when you don’t get what you want. Think of it as a cup of joe brewed with equal parts optimism and gratitude.

What I have for my job is not passion, but investment. I tanked my first few months at my company, earning myself what felt like a permanent position at rock bottom. I told my manager I would not leave until I figured it out. No matter how hard I was struggling, no matter how many hours I clocked, no matter how often I left the office after sunset and cried in my car, I would succeed.

Along with support from my colleagues, my investment and my stubborn rejection of failure have earned me a newly positive career outlook. In terms of actual enjoyment, I could love or hate my job—it would have no effect on my work ethic because my need for success outweighs my need for happiness.

Employers should prefer invested employees to passionate ones. My commitment to my company is immune to bad days and personal vendettas. Because what motivates a passionate employee when their enthusiasm wanes? This is the same reason arranged marriages have lower divorce rates than love-based marriages.

Feelings are ephemeral, and leave passionate employees dangerously susceptible to abandonment.

While there are aspects of my job that are rewarding, I’m much happier compartmentalizing my profession as separate from, even opposite of, my passion. Some days, it feels like an elaborate prank that my career relies on my oral communication skills—I’d laugh if the irony weren’t so cruel. Dramatics aside, it’s not a woeful or negative thing to work a passionless job. I perceive it as a neutral.

In the same way you don’t find love with every person you date, you won’t find passion in every job you work. I think the experience is worthwhile because, hopefully, you come out better on the other side. And even if it doesn’t reach the zenith of whatever it is you’re seeking, there are still happy days.

I don’t need passion in my job because I know it exists elsewhere. I know exactly where it lives: in my notebooks, in scribbles on receipts at the bottom of my purse, in drafts in my mind.

I’m not passionate about my job now, but this could change—the way natural love can grow from mere attachment. My current job may be shaping a future interest. It may be a necessary checkpoint or detour to a final destination where I find passion when I least expect it.

Until then, I am content with doing what I need to do. I work 40+ hours a week in a passionless job, and that’s perfectly okay.