Quiet Quitting…but less quiet
I quit!!!!! …my job. And I am very proud of myself. That was the bravest and stupidest thing I have ever done. I am riddled with anxiety and pride at the same time and it’s so exhausting I hope it at least burns extra calories.
An Ode to Unhappiness
I wish I could tell you that I woke up one morning, sitting up in my twin bed with the camera panning close to my face which carries a sharp look of determination. I grab my bag, go to the hairdresser, go clothes shopping and by the next shot, I have turned into a made-over vixen who’s confident stride carries her straight into her managers office. Then an inspiring monologue, my managers lack of words and before anything else happens I have turned around on my heels and walk out, never to return again.
Kinda like Eliot Reid in that one episode of Scrubs when she started rocking heavy make up, strapless bras and an eyeball piercing fringe.
Would’ve been awesome.
In reality my manager and I sat down, I told her I wasn’t happy and I was looking for a better fit and all of that happened while on the verge of tears.
Putting aside my borderline pathetic demeanour, pulling through with this took a whole lot of courage and a long time of emotional resignation before it.
I wasn’t happy. I think I haven’t been happy for a long time, but good pay and a semi-flexible work environment kept me hooked. That and a very fragile ego that got off telling people I worked for Microsoft and IBM.
It’s hard to draw the line. One one hand, you are being told that working isn’t really here to make you happy, but make you money and pay for your free time expenses. So every Sunday you dread Monday and every Monday you wait for Friday. Rinse, repeat.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that there is people out there who like their jobs. The steady income, the security, the colleagues, the coffee breaks, the walks to the office, the weekends, the afterwork drinks. That’s amazing, and you’re doing great.
Unfortunately, I was never one of them. I loathed the 9–5, the office, the coffee breaks, the work-life-balance, the meetings. The only people that kept me going where exceptional colleagues and…oh yeah…money…how could I forget.
It was only after I quit loudly and officially and bureaucratically that I learned about the art of quiet quitting. And where did I learn it from? TikTok. And from the moment I saw and liked my first TikTok, I started seeing it everywhere (because that is how that works, baby).
It’s complicated
You know what we used to call quiet quitting in the early to mid 2000s? Work-Life-Balance.
De-prioritising work and not killing yourself over that raise your manager dangles in front of your face like a carrot was even advertised by companies themselves. There was a catch though. They only encourage it, if it actually made you more productive. Please don’t ever misunderstand a companies interest in your well-being for anything more than the desire to make you make them more money. Nobody gives a shit about how much time you spend with your kids, Tammy, where is that report I asked you for 4 minutes ago, that nobody will ever read. Goddamnit don’t you ever think about your career?
I read an article about some Canadian million-billion-gazillionair, who said something along the lines of: “I expect my employees to work more then 40 hours, hustle and exhaust themselves so I can see that they bring value to my company. If you don’t do that, you’re fired.”
Part of me knows he might have been heavily misquoted. But the other part, the part that saw no meaning and silver lining in her current position, needed a biased article about some random filthy rich douchebag, talking about how he only respects people if they treat him and his made up values like the word of god. I needed someone to be angry at.
Just so we’re clear here: This is an opinion piece and not a well-researched white paper, showcasing the impacts of quiet quitting on both the employer and the employee. I’m with the people. I quit quietly before it was cool. And I am here to break down how it all started why it ended the way it did.
The (long) journey to quiet quitting
Here I am, young Paula. I was 22 years old and just started my college education as a biomedical engineer.
Did I know what that was? No and I still don’t, but it sounded super important and with important sounding degrees you can get important sounding jobs and those are the jobs that pay your rent. I couldn’t understand the ridiculous question of what I was truly passionate about. Who cares?! I also rather not know, because I don’t want to find myself in the uncomfortable situation of being passionate about something that doesn’t make MONEH and doesn’t get people saying “uuuuuuh fancy”. So please don’t bother me with that hippie garbage.
You know what’s the best part of being a biomedical engineering student? Telling people I was a biomedical engineering student. I loved that part. The actual studying I truly and mindlessly hated. My interest in all of it was painfully superficial. Of course electrical engineering, anatomy, physiology, statistics and all that sounds somewhat interesting if I can watch a quick YouTube video about it, read an article and then fact feed all of that information to friends and/or random people during conversation, like a true scientist. That’s what I was here for.
Unfortunately for me, passing my exams required me to actually deep dive and let me tell you this: without the help and support of my friends, I would have failed every single one of them. I still don’t know how I managed to pull through 3 years of full time studying and then leaving this place with a bachelors degree. I honestly cannot remember anything I learned in any subject. I might be able to write some lines of somewhat decent code, but that’s it.
Slowly and surely, the thought of being a fraud crept up to me and soon, would sit on my head and guide my every move. A little like the rat from ratatouille, but without the traditional French dish and a lot of self-sabotage instead.
In my last semester, I somehow landed an internship at IBM. How? Well if there is one thing I am very good at, it’s saying the right things to the right people at the right time. I’m a talker, a storyteller, that I have always been. That made me exceptionally good at interviews. What made it even easier was the fact, that the position was merely an internship, so no prior experience needed. Piece. Of. Cake. I could blabble my way into the company without proof of actual qualification. Felt like a hot fever dream.
And I had hope. It felt like a fresh start, like the opportunity to find my worth within an actual paying job, where I would actually do things that made sense.
BOY was I wrong. The fancy IBM and all it stood for crumbled before my eyes into a pile of obsolete values, low pay and pure internal chaos. But I bought into it, I thought that’s just how things worked. I met people I respected and became friends with. In the end, that’s what it was all about. None of us knew what they were really doing, everyone seemed to just wing it. Some people admitted it openly, others covered it up with a bunch of corporate bullshit words to seem credible.
To be clear, I couldn’t describe my actual line of work to you if held at gunpoint, but I heard that this was indeed a running gag inside the consulting industry, so I wasn’t overly concerned.
Here comes the truly dramatic part: I thought, that this would change. I expected this to be a temporary state and that, out of all this chaos an confusion, would soon arise a true sense of purpose.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
That’s when it started. That’s when I slowly, unintentionally and quietly quit. I quit believing in what I did served anyone but people who are already rich. I quit thinking I could make a difference anywhere. I quit caring about making a difference. That was the only way I could keep doing this.
And after almost 5 years, I decided to leave the company and take on a new position at Microsoft. I, a dumbass, expected great things. A task that would give me an answer to the question: What do you actually do? What do you contribute to this world?
Another spoiler: that didn’t happen either.
The only thing I learned was, that it’s the same everywhere. There is no El Dorado, no one company to rule them all, no silver lining. That’s the moment I crashed. Here I was with my pretty six figure income and my Tesla (which I love like it is my first-born child). And here I was also with the realisation that one day, I will be dead and that every second of my life I give to this job I will never be able to get back. What started as “hahahaha this job doesn’t make any sense” turned into “holy shit, my existence and everything I stand for doesn’t make sense. I contribute nothing, my life is a sham”.
Gnarly stuff, my friends. Gnarly stuff.
I tried thinking of a time when I was truly happy, when I thought “yeah, that’s a life worth living” and it always brought me back to traveling. The time I spontaneously booked a flight to Japan before I signed my all-in contract with IBM and traveled through the country by bike in the midst of August heat (little bit of travel advice: don’t do that). Or when my friend and I booked a short trip to Iceland and traveled the golden circle. When my boyfriend and I went diving in the cenotes of the Yucatan peninsula. When we sailed the coast of Malta.
That was important in life. Spending time with my boyfriend Dominic and my two cats, rewatching Taskmaster for the second time, spending time with my friends and family. But these moments were so few.
And that’s when my quiet quitting turned into loud resignation. I had a little bit of savings that would get me over the next couple of months. Because at that time, I still thought it was that particular occupation at that particular company. I thought I could just get a job elsewhere. But then I applied and interviewed and realised that the problem was much MUCH bigger.
I had to stay out of there. Quitting my job was not just leaving Microsoft. It was leaving a meaningless life behind.
A month had passed, when I said to Dominic: “I don’t think I can do this anymore. The offices and colleagues and the bullshit-meetings. I just can’t.” He, being a self-employed software developer, never having had a boss or having had to attend an all-hands meeting, said: “Yeah…I didn’t get how you could do that in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, the money was awesome. But everything that came with it was a nightmare.”
So we arrive at the present moment. Me, being unemployed and trying to build my own business as a freelance writer. HAH, a couple of years earlier, I would have laughed at anyone like me, telling me that story. I’d have thought “wow, what a delusional low-life.”
Final Thoughts
I am here to say that maybe, people don’t give a shit about your free pizza Fridays, and your after work free beer Wednesdays. Or your free coffee barista bars, your flexible work hours.
Maybe people need a purpose. Maybe people need to feel like you’re not trying to waste their time by sending out meetings nobody cares to actually prepare for. Maybe paying someone a load of money still doesn’t buy you the freedom to do as you please.
I think quiet quitting isn’t, at least for the most part, a sign that people are entitled brats who don’t feel the need to contribute and think getting payed is their birth right. I think it’s an opportunity. On one hand it’s an opportunity for big companies to rethink what kind of work environment they would like to create for employees. And it’s an opportunity for everyone to think very hard about one thing in particular:
What is it, that you truly want? What is it, that you can do, that feels so natural an easy, it doesn’t really feel like work.
For me, it’s writing and drawing. That’s what I did for fun as a kid, that’s what I can do for hours without looking at the clock. That’s what I gaslit myself into thinking it wouldn’t make me any money and should let go for the sake of buying a house one day.
And now I am 31 years old, I don’t care about a house, I don’t care about a fancy car. Taking that step was the bravest and stupidest thing I have ever done.
Wish me luck!
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