How Selective Independence Set Me Free

“To find yourself, think for yourself.” — Socrates

Recently, I decided my life needed a radical change of pace. At 24 years old, I found myself partying too much, sleeping too little, and existing in a perpetual hangover of existence — both literally and figuratively.

This is a fact I had known for years, yet thought that was simply par for the course when it came to young adulthood. If you had to deal with things like student loans, bad relationships, substance abuse, or instability at home, well then — tough luck.

Once you graduated college, what you’re left with was what you had to work with for the next 5–7 years.

You’re screwed. Suck it up and get to work, Millennial #78,372,924.

So that’s what I did. I got a good job working as an Account Executive at an up and coming tech company in Toronto, gave 110%, and was damn good at my job. I could sell the hell out of the product…

….without achieving any kind of lasting happiness.

The work week was white noise between the blessed time of Friday night through Sunday evening, which were usually spent in a haze of sleeplessness and questionable decision-making.

But as the hangover(s) got worse, a shift change began. Realizing that being stuck in this existence was both undesirable and physically impossible, I jumped into whatever I could find on my laptop to help me find a solution.

There were two problems that needed to be addressed. First and foremost, the odd position of being in a job I was good at, yet found totally unfulfilling.

I had friends at work and consistently won performance related awards, but all that served to do was provide motivation against actually taking the leap into a field I wanted to pursue.

Second, the constant need to be part of every social obligation that came across my phone screen.

This was partially a result of the first problem, as not only did it help numb the underlying issues of my own lack of fulfillment, but maybe (just maybe!) a random opportunity would arise out of my network that would force me to make a change.

It’s not that a vibrant social life wasn’t enjoyable — far from it. I had a constant stream of adventures to choose from, and growing my network has proved to be unbelievably valuable to this day. Even if that miracle opportunity hasn’t materialized (yet?).

However, continuing a lifestyle I had built up in college, two years after graduation, produced a feeling of stagnation that began to wear both on my physical and mental health.

I was operating on autopilot. Mostly the same places, mostly the same people, and mostly the same schedule, without any active thought put into what I was doing. There was no intention to build towards anything. This was just how things were.

I tried to shift gears. I began doing everything every self-help guru on the internet said would lead to a radical change in my life (guaranteed!). Anything to get out the rut.

This went on for three months. I became a hurricane of attempted self-improvement — listening to Gary Vaynerchuck podcasts, reading Medium, Quora, Lifehacker, and anything that could be found on the first results page of Google vaguely related to “personal development”.

There was no end-goal in mind here besides the vague concept of “self improvement.” I was incrementally improving in a physical sense, but I was still a hamster running on a wheel of my own creation.

After about two months on the wheel, I had a second realization. I was approaching this with the wrong mentality.

Using other people’s stories to try and alter my own wasn’t doing anything except producing the illusion that I was trying to change. All the external factors that led me down this original path were still alive and well, lurking at the edges of, and semi-frequently breaking through, into my mainstream.

The problem was that those factors — friends, family, even basic acquaintances — were bedrock. Cutting people out of my life was a non-starter.

It’s ingrained in me that loyalty to friends and family is paramount, and I wasn’t about to start sacrificing good qualities in order to get rid of the bad.

Regardless, the behavior I was trying to change came directly from them. The Friday night texts, the newest viral meme, the constant distraction of a new music festival to go to, a new club opening which was a must-attend. All stemmed from a single source.

But what if you could cut that interaction down? Mitigate the exposure to social obligations that were leading you down a road you didn’t want to travel on, while still maintaining those relationships that built you into the person you were today?

I looked at my phone and found revelation.

Communication technology’s fundamental purpose was to be a connector of people across space and time, but that connection is still completely dependent on the user. You are one hundred percent in control of what input goes into your phone, and what output it produces as a result.

So I did an audit. What was causing me to constantly be dropping productive activities in favor of hanging out with friends and every other social obligation under the sun? This was an easy discovery to come to:

Group chats? Muted.

Facebook? Silenced.

Instagram? Continued as normal (I’m not perfect).

Two quick changes that produced immeasurable results. The noise I had grown accustomed to — the memes, invitations to hangout, random debaucherous events —ceased to be at the forefront of my existence.

By removing the layer of noise I had built up, I gained the ability to structure my day, to prioritize what was important in a clear and methodical way (I’m a big fan of having a physical planner to write things down, but this could be done a million different ways).

By shifting my social interactions to exact points in my week, I would only fall into temptation when I wanted to. No chance for derail.

I had given myself the gift of control with just a few button presses.

Waking up early, being healthy, and investing time into what I believed to be important no longer had to be counter-balanced against an otherwise chaotic existence.

Gaining this kind of control back opened my eyes to what I really was and was not obligated to. I didn’t HAVE to attend every social event that came my way — it wasn’t an end-all to stay in on a Friday night and have some me time.

So I got to work.

I enrolled in a coding bootcamp in the University of Toronto, lost weight, and started writing again for the first time since college.

I now have the time to set goals and pursue them, while maintaining all the relationships I still dearly cherish.

There was no need for a black and white mentality here. It is possible to improve on a wobbly foundation without having to tear the whole thing up and start again.

It was a simple change that could have been done in two minutes, but took me six months to figure out.

And I’m all the happier for it.