A few years ago, my boss came back from a High Performance Organization training and handed all of our team a sheet to fill out. We had to answer questions like what our ideal work environment was, how we wanted to receive recognition for a job well done. Most importantly, it asked us what our one year and three goals were.
My one year goal was to have a successful public education program. My three year goal was to be part of a major activation or a full-scale exercise. Being the overachiever I am (Or I caught wind of some good luck), I accomplished both of those goals in a year.
I found that sheet when I was cleaning out my desk for the last time. It suddenly became clearer to me why I was doing this. I didn’t have long-term goals associated with being an emergency manager.
Winners quit all the time. They just quit the right stuff at the right time. ~Seth Godin
In hindsight, I should have known better. When I graduated from the University of Colorado, I told all of my professors I needed “a few years in industry before coming back for a doctorate.” I took a detour and worked as a software project manager briefly before getting an emergency management position. Step 1 of my master plan, complete.
Now that I had stable income, I made it a goal to pay off the remainder of my student loans. I finished within two years, and the idea of more debt or forgoing a salary in favor of a doctorate made me cringe. Scratch that. At the same time, I got nostalgic for my software days. I missed the freedom, the innovation, being surrounded by technical minded peers.
It’s an eerie feeling, when you suddenly don’t want to answer to the established standard of your industry anymore. You feel ungrateful, like you wasted all of your mentors’ time, wasted the better part of your career trajectory, and are terrified of the idea of starting from scratch.
When some former colleagues and I started talking about building a software product, I thought I had enough reason to quit. I had the savings, the support of my husband, and a great team. But the thought of everyone else judging me for quitting work on a product that didn’t net income was terrifying.
The person you have been is not the person you will remain. Think of this as both a challenge and a gift. ~M.H. Clark
I forgot about anything else when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. I preoccupied myself with test results, insurance claims, and the Family Medical Leave Act. Concurrently, my boss left for another position. Our team quickly made decisions about our leadership and strategic direction. Staff members who remained were expected to hire new staff, bring them up to speed, and fill in the knowledge gaps.
I managed as best as I could. My teammates and department were incredibly kind and flexible with me as I rushed off to doctor’s appointments. As my husband and I prepared for the holiday season and his second surgery, we were hit with the news of his father’s death.
Being that close to death makes you contemplate things a little differently. No one prepares you for the thoughts you are forced to process about your own life. My father-in-law loved his work as a crane inspector. Could I say the same thing about being an emergency manager?
My husband’s surgery went over as planned, with a speedy recovery that surprised all of us. My father-in-law is gone but not forgotten. I continued on, using the only coping mechanism I knew: Throwing myself into a three-month long project.
The secret to change is to focus all of your energy not to fighting the old, but on building the new. ~Socrates
I equate being an emergency manager as a relationship that had simply run its course. No one in the wrong, but we had simply grown apart. It would have been easy for me to say that I could do my job better if I had more resources, more time, more support.
But the fact is that no one forced me to charter new territories for public education. I set up that hedonic treadmill on my own. I knew that resources wouldn’t appear simply because I did a good job. It was up to me to decide if I was going to jump on the boat or get off.
The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are. ~Joseph Campbell
Months later, I can say with certainty that I did the right thing. Leaving my job gave me the time I needed to reflect on what I had accomplished and where I wanted to go. It gave me the time to:
- Undertake a digital decluttering endeavor, with the hope that it would create space in my mind to discover what truly made me happy.
- Learn about how our possessions can become a reflection of our self-worth.
- Learn that if you change your physical environment, you can change your life.
- Snag a new job that is in line with my values and my long-term goals (Which I will share in an upcoming blog post).
Conclusion
I write this not to encourage anyone who’s unhappy with their job or career to throw up their hands in the air and quit. There are many resources out there to help people navigate through career challenges. You can:
- Read articles
- Take quizzes
- Talk to a career coach.
- Work with a therapist to uncover the deeper burdens of your life
- Go on a retreat to find your true authentic self.
I recommend you do these things first before resorting to more drastic measures. But ultimately, you know best what is right for you. You have the courage to be authentic and honest with yourself. You just have to be okay with some discomfort in the short term so that you can be ready for the long term.
