Courage Conversations — Turning Burnout and Quarter-Life “Crisis” Into Catalyst For Growth
As I sit with my laptop on my lap, I’m not sure exactly what to write or where to start. I want to talk about change, but I don’t want to come across conceited or give the impression that this is an ego trip or I know it all. Because I don’t at all. But I am about to launch my project and business all about change, and it seems right and fitting to start with my own story. The idea of sharing it like this, raw, un-edited, is making me both scared and excited as I write it. I’m scared that I will be judged as a fony, a fake, pushing something that I shouldn’t or that no-one wants. That is my anxiety. I am also deeply excited, that sharing some of my journey and story could be helpful, and help other people in their own process of personal or professional change and growth. I haven’t found a better word to talk about this stuff yet, I don’t really like “levelling up” as it sounds sales-y and marketing. But it makes sense in a certain way — level up in life, in your understanding, in what you can do with your skills and knowledge. Anyway I digress. The point is to share my story to kick-start a project all about Courage and Courageous Conversations — saying and sharing and doing the things that scare you, but deep down you know feel right and can help you progress in life.
My story starts with a “crisis”. It seems weak or lame to call it a crisis, because really I have things so good. And it also feels self-indulgent because other people go through a lot. But it’s all relative and this was my personal crisis moment so it meant a lot to me. It started around August 2016 when I had my sort of personal low, rock bottom moment. It was just after my 31st birthday. Another year had passed, I was getting older, and I was going bald. This was one of several crisis “triggers” for me, as I had attached quite a lot of ego and importance to my hair over the years without really realising it. And noticing that I was thinning on top was a cause for concern — my internal critic said I would be less attractive, less successful, and less me without hair. So it bothered me. I was also working hard in a consulting job that was great in the sense that I was learning so much, but a space and team in which I felt I couldn’t fully express myself or start my own business idea within it (intrapreneurship), even though I had tried. There just wasn’t enough time in the day. I’d get home tired and then rush around making dinner and doing the dishes and washing clothes and I remember being in this autopilot mode, stacking the chores and things I had to do like a robot, and not enjoying the process at all, sort of like watching someone else’s version or movie of life. It was weird and I was sure it could be better, but I didn’t know how so I kept ploughing on with my daily routine. I had also just broken up with a lovely Italian girl — we had a disastrous holiday in France where she fell out of a canoe and we argued and fought, and both knew it wasn’t right so we let it go.
All this pressure was building up in my head and on my body. Mentally I wasn’t feeling good, always stressed and anxious about work and what emails I needed to do next. Physically I was getting sick with colds and coughs and then I got a virus called Molluscum Contageosum (spelling?) which gave me chickenpox bumps on my skin. I went to the clinic and they freeze-blasted my skin with cryotherapy. I was so angry with my body for “letting me down” when in reality it was me who wasn’t looking after my body. This crescendoed in August on a Wednesday or somewhere mid-week when I knew I had loads to do but I couldn’t face it so I left the team in the office and excused myself for the day and just lay in the park. I was face down, face in the grass, just breathing and trying to figure out what to do next. I was defeated so I let go of trying.
I went home and started reading a book that I’d been given on personal growth. It was the first book of that type that I’d tried and I was skeptical and didn’t think it could work and deeply suspicious of being brainwashed somehow through a book and losing control. But the first few pages were honest and resonated with my troubles, so I decided to trust the words and try to learn from them. I read it all and let the words actually connect with my brain as if they were being said to me directly. It was weird but it got to the deeper parts of my brain and things started to stir around and shift mentally. He talked about taking responsibility for my actions and figuring out my own passion and flow, and looking at time as a flowing thing rather than a static or compartmentalised thing. Then I watched some more YouTube videos and read more of the book. Then I watched a sad film and cried. A lot. It was a process of grieving and catharsis or something that I needed to do. I cried on and off for the whole film, and don’t really remember ever crying like that. Then I felt a bit better but it hit me that this was only the beginning of my crisis point. It had unlocked some new feelings and awareness of my feelings, but there was still A LOT of work to be done. I hesitate to share more on this as without feedback I don’t want it to become a “find myself” cliché beyond that which it already is :) But that’s what happened, and that started a process from August 2016 until now, March 2019, that has taken me on quite the adventure. I struggle to remember the exact order that everything happened and I can share more details another time or 1–1 if that is useful but the quick version of the timeline includes something like:
August-November 2016: working on my physical health, getting back in touch with my body and movement and running and climbing. Cycling more. Remembering things from my past and childhood that I used to love doing, and starting to pick them up again. Also remembering things from my past that I didn’t like and having conversations with myself and family that I’d been avoiding forever.
November-December: going travelling to Bali with university mates, trying to meet new girls and have new romances to get over past pains, travelling to India for another friend’s wedding and seeing a lot of natural beauty but wondering what it all meant.
January 2017: trying to launch a personal/professional growth product within my consulting firm, but failing to find the time or support that I really needed to do it.
February: moving out of my expensive flatshare in Maida Vale and moving into a 17-person guardianship in Farringdon for new adventures (shout out to Lowe Guardians).
March-April: struggling to get my intrapreneurship project off the ground, while going on a silly amount of dates, travelling to Italy and Turkey with work, but feeling like something still needed to change. Helping a friend with a legal battle, which was no fun at all.
May-July: enjoying a whirlwind romance in London, exploring the city with new eyes and fresh energy, but knowing deep down it was a quick fix.
August: realising that something still isn’t right and travelling to Granada in search of more answers. Spending a week with my uni mate but realising that I need to be alone. Going to the mountains of Granada for a couple of days on my own to think and meditate on what is next. Making the decision that I need to quit my job and start-up my own company.
September: putting feelers out in the London startup scene, meeting my awesome co-founder (yo Harry) and quitting my job to go all in.
October 2017 — March 2019: figuring out how to start-up an actual business! I’d done it before with an awards company for boutique hotels but this was a whole new beast. Bigger ambitions, goals, desire for impact, for legacy, for purpose and truth. To build something beautiful and helpful that I can put my heart and soul into, for the long run. There is so much to this, and the learning has been insane, but I feel like this is a whole other “Courage Conversation” about business startups that I can pick up elsewhere with anyone who is interested. But it has involved more strategic thinking and innovation than I ever thought possible, testing my metal and commitment to an idea, speaking to other people and getting feedback and having any sense of being “right” continually destroyed, epic highs and crazy lows, shooting a promo video on no budget, moving home to live with my parents, having no money at all, living in Portugal for 3 months and cleaning toilets so that I could find a venue and develop a program for our first adventure experience product, doing lots of writing, and market research, and creating pitch decks, and so much more.
And so we come to now, the present moment, and I’ve learnt so much and there is still so much to learn and do. But ultimately it is not about me at all. That is not the point. The only point of sharing this is to say it’s okay. It’s okay to have a quarter-life crisis. To not know what the fuck you are doing. To be scared, to try everything out. To make mistakes. To have mental and physical health problems that you want to work on and address. To be yourself and speak your truth, whatever that looks like. To change everything. I’m not really one for jazzy motivational speeches or inspiration, I prefer to do things quietly and take a measured approach. But I realised with this Courage project that there comes a time when in order to make an impact, you have to speak to the world and see what comes back. So here it is. And I’m grateful for the opportunity. My hope is that by sharing a few words, ideas, feelings, and shapes on a page, it opens up the space to start and create more Courage Conversations that can help turn what some people might call a “crisis” into a beautiful opportunity to learn and grow.
