Why my brink of depression helped me figure out life and my quarter life crisis.

I remember it like it were yesterday. Just three years ago, I was on my school’s stage excited (and nervous that I would trip over my two feet in my heels) to accept my diploma while being greeted by smiles and cheers, especially from my loud African family who yelled with all their might in the background as if I won a Noble Peace Prize. I was ambitious, driven and worked my ass off to try and live the life I thought was for me — choosing between going back to school to either become a lawyer or a Social Worker.

Two years later, I found myself working in with one of the largest banks (not back in school as I thought I would be), feeling chained to my desk and in neck to neck competition with my colleagues, who were my friends, teammates and rivals.

I was shocked that the world I thought I would embrace after graduating school simply wasn’t cracked up to what it was supposed to be, and everyone tried to tell me it was just a phase that I was going through.

“Stick it out! Wait until you get a promotion! Go back to school, you’re smart enough!”

But this wasn’t a phase. My quarter life crisis, which was the pain of living day in and day out not doing what I loved killed me physically, mentally, and even emotionally to the point I didn’t see the point of waking up some days to continue my routine.

And one day shit just got real. After several weekly team meetings, where the same people won award after award, I felt unappreciated because I worked hard (even harder than some of the people who won laser printed certificates). I stopped caring about my job because it felt like hell. Didn’t meet targets and quotas set by my manager. Took more sick days, and tried anything and everything to get out of work. During one meeting with my manager, she practically (and blatantly) told me she couldn’t help me any more with my job because she felt as though she did everything she could do to help me “succeed.”

That same night, I wrote my two weeks notice letter, and handed it in the very next day with no rhyme or reason.

Was that the best financial decision? Heeeeell no.

(In fact, I was unemployed practically for four months, and told no one but my boyfriend that I up and left my job).

But was that the best decision for my well being? Heeeeeeellllll yeah!

(In fact, I spent more time reading, journal-ling, meeting new people and travelling by myself to get to actually know me — the real me, which helped me figure out my life and my passion — coaching other millennials to be empowered in everything they do!)

Some people say you gotta go through hell to get to heaven, and it’s marvellous here.