5 Things You Should Know Before You Quit Your Job

I left my job 100 days ago. If I were President, we'd be talking about what I'd accomplished so far.

I know a lot of people who are thinking about leaving their jobs. A funny thing happens when you quit: people come out of the woodwork and tell you, in hushed tones, that they're unhappy, too. Then there's a certain understanding that passes between us: I get it, I've been there. Sometimes they want a you-can-quit! pep talk. Sometimes they just want to say the words out loud for the first time: I think I might be unhappy at work? The question mark lingering in the way it does when you both know, once the words hit the air, that it really isn't really a question at all. 

I've reflected on my first 100 days a lot during the last few weeks and thought, that if I were doing it again, there are a few things I wish I'd known. So to all of you who are debating, vacillating, wondering daily if you should make the jump, this one's for you. 

Five Things You Should Know Before You Quit Your Job:

1. Even if you don't love your job, you will grieve elements of it.

By the end, I didn't love my job. I didn't hate it, either. I just knew I wanted to do something else. But, I found myself grieving what my job once was. I found myself reminiscing on the good old days, when I would proclaim: I might stay here for my whole life! Those days haunted me and made me question my decision, wondering if I could have somehow gotten that feeling back. 

I also grieved my coworkers, routine and paycheck. And silly things, like office supplies. Gone are the days of unlimited computer paper and pens, my friends. 

2. Your worth is not in your work. 

I'm going to say it again because this is a tough one: your worth is not in your work. I would have told you, before I quit, that I wasn't getting worth from my work. I was wrong. It's nearly impossible not to when you're spending the majority of your week grinding, achieving and managing a constantly reverberating inbox. 

When I'd get home at the end of the day, I typically would have gone to the gym, commuted to work, worked all day and commuted (45 minutes!) home. Then, I'd walk in the door and immediately make preparations to do it again the next day: unpack gym bag, pack gym bag. Unpack lunch box, pack lunch box. 

By the time I'd sit down for dinner, I'd feel like I could run the world after accomplishing so much. I cannot imagine how a working mom must feel: like she's barely getting by and, yet, could do anything!

My routine laid years of groundwork that allowed me to believe I had earned my worth by the end of the day. It took time to undo this way of thinking. During the early days, I had to constantly remind myself that, even if I'm not as busy, I am still enough. Even if I don't get as much done in a day, I still deserve dinner, for food need not be earned. Even if I'm not grinding as hard, I still deserve good rest, as rest is a basic human need. We don't have to earn our keep.

3. It takes time to create a new routine.

I've heard a lot of new moms say they struggle on maternity leave. They've said they feel awkward being at home while their coworkers are grinding. They don't know what to do with the limitless day that lacks their usual structure. Many women have told me that they don't really get in to their groove until the end, then it's time to go back to work.

It's funny because, as I hit my own 12-week mark, I noticed I finally felt like I was in the right rhythm. I'd had moments throughout the earlier days where I'd felt like I was in a groove, but it was typically fleeting. The six-week marker felt more routine than the four, and the nine more certain than the seven. But, then I'd relapse and yearn for more structure. These days, I'm in my groove, but it took time. Give yourself grace and time to figure out how you want to structure you day. 

4. Sit in the discomfort.

Be still with it. Reflect on it. Think about it. What does it tell you? Perhaps that wine used to taste better when you felt like it had been hard earned. Or, perhaps, the TV show isn't quite as relaxing when you don't feel like you worked for it. Listen to these feelings. They mean something. For me, they told me I still felt like I was hustling for my worth. I had to remind myself that I still deserved life's little pleasures, even if I didn't spend the day hustling for them. 

5. You're going to get busy again. 

You're quitting your job for a reason. That reason will evolve. It will grow. And, before you know it, you're going to be busy again, wondering why you didn't relax when you had the time. Enjoy the calm before the storm. 

Even on the hard days - the lonely ones, when I feel like I'm floundering and am confused - I haven't looked back. I have to constantly remind myself to seek not a life of comfort and ease, but one of fulfillment and passion. Will it be easy? Nope. Will it be worth it? From where I'm sitting, it sure seems like it. 

My Hope for Wanting Less {on this Black Friday}

A house I used to live in was recently torn down and replaced by something much more beautiful. It's big and white, with windows and a porch. It has a farm-house vibe in the heart of our favorite neighborhood. It's dreamy.

As I drove by one night, all the lights were on and it looked like it was glowing. I saw the family moving about inside; the owners are younger than me. I thought about the joy they must have felt when they moved in with their new baby, an urban family's dream coming true. 

I rounded the corner to my rental, just up the hill, and I felt jealous.

I found myself dreaming of having that home for myself. Of having a little Saxon babe to put to bed in a brand new room, smelling of fresh paint. I thought about the way the kitchen was probably still packed with boxes. I wondered if they were eating pizza on the floor while making a plan for organizing their new space. All the while, of course, picturing myself doing the same, calculating how (if?) I could ever make it happen. 

I laid in bed that night, listening to the sounds of our friends in the duplex upstairs. Their boots struck the bedroom floor above me, revealing exactly where they were in the house. I listened to Chris' steady breathing; he's always asleep before me. I thought about that cute couple down the street in their big, new house.

But this time, as I took in the simple, easy sounds of our rental, I didn't feel jealous. I felt an overwhelming ease wash over me by the simplicity of our life and space.

Sometimes I find myself yearning for more glitz: a new house, a big vacation, boutique workout classes. Sometimes I troll Pinterest, drooling over all white homes and trips to Croatia. Sometimes, especially today, on Black Friday, I want to buy everything on the internet. 

I'm more than aware that, to some, our current lifestyle is extravagant. To others, we're living super simply. The key is finding the sweet spot. The one that's right for us.

For me, it has been about learning to let go of comparison, knowing that it only makes me want more (trips! clothes! dates!). It has been about practicing gratitude and learning to appreciate the things that give me life - the natural light the pours into our house each morning, coffee dates and outside adventures. It has been about learning to love cooking at home for one another, but appreciating every minute of a date night. 

I imagine this will always be a balancing act. Someday, we may have a little bit more (a home we own, perhaps?). I hope that, even as our life changes, we continue to strive toward simplicity.

I hope I remember the sound of the boots above me and Chris' deep breathing - knowing the familiarity and simplicity of these things is sweeter than the new and shiny that often tempts me. I hope I always remember the simple joy in a good cup of coffee and a morning spent outside. I hope we trend toward less stuff, more time together. Less wanting, more gratitude. 

This is my hope on this beautiful, crazy Friday. 

are you in a hurry to matter? // on finding your calling

When I first quit my job, Chris would often jokingly say: You've been given the gift of time! One of the world's non-renewable resources! Meanwhile, I'd be floundering around the house, overwhelmed by where to begin, what to accomplish first, how to make a difference...

Although I had more hours than I needed for the first time in years, I found myself obsessively making to do lists, checking my blog analytics and watching YouTube tutorials about growing a brand. I was creating work for myself because the thought of stillness - of not accomplishing a lot during the day - was overwhelming. I was putting immense pressure on myself to create meaningful output quickly. 

I was in a cycle that I like to call rotary thinking, which can also, more technically, be called anxiety. It's when my brain starts rotating around and around, one oppressive thought leading to the next, when logic and Truth can't find their way in. It led me to believe that an arbitrary to do list was more important than finding stillness. It led me to believe that everyone was watching me, waiting for me to fail, wondering why I hadn't accomplished more yet. 

When I get in these patterns of rotary thinking, the only solution to stop them is a Truth Arrow, which, again, is a totally made up term. But, a Truth Arrow is when something real - something grounding - pops into my brain. And, like an arrow, it shoots across the middle of my circling thoughts, cutting them in half and breaking them up. Back in September, the truth arrow was that I don't have to be in such a hurry to matter. First of all, no one is watching and wondering what I've accomplished, because everyone else is doing their own thing. And, second of all, I don't have to prove that I matter.

Because we all matter, regardless of what we do or accomplish each day. 

If you're like me and you find yourself in a hurry to find your calling, go after your dreams and make a difference in this world, I wanted to remind you, today, that you already matter. You don't have to earn your keep. You have a long time to make a difference in this world and, when the time is right, you will. You are not forgotten, you are not on this Earth without reason. There are seasons for waiting, seasons for stillness and seasons for hustle. Rest when you're meant to rest. Be still when you're meant to be still. And, when it's time to hustle? Get ready, because you're gonna be hustlin. 

reframing failure (for my fellow perfectionists)

Right before I quit my job, I told a friend I was afraid of failing. 

What is failing? She asked in response.
I don't know, I told her. Not making money? Never getting coaching clients? Having to beg for my job back?
Then maybe it's time you reframe failure, she told me. 

She went on to tell me that, to her, failure would be me staying in my job. Failure would be being so afraid to take a leap that I miss what God is calling me to do. Failure would be holding more tightly to comfortable than my passion. She encouraged me to reframe failure in my mind because I was only seeing it at surface level.

I recently told you that I've become a bit of a pro at failing since I left Corporate America. Here are a few ways I've failed in the traditional sense recently:
- A major female-oriented organization I was hoping to partner with told me we couldn't because The Letter Project has Christian core values.
- A local, Christian organization I was hoping to partner with told me we couldn't because The Letter Project doesn't align with their mission.
- A podcast I'm dying to be on (and have stalked, just a little bit) has ignored all of my emails (and Tweets) for months. 

A few months ago, these rejections would have sent me spiraling like a golden wheel spider running for its life. They would have made me want to quit, feeling hopeless and rejected. They would have made me question if I'm on the right track. 

As for today? They hurt a little bit, of course. Rejection always stings. But, with each one, I took a deep breath, reflected on my progress and moved on. With the major female organization, I allowed myself to feel honored to have gotten the meeting at all; I noticed how brave I felt after I pitched my idea. With the local organization, I felt proud to know I'll go back anyway and be unafraid to show my face, even if they don't want to work together. As for the Tweets, I may just keep sending those :) 

Each time, I forced myself to remember what my wise friend told me. Failing, in those instances, would have been being scared to take the meeting or too timid to ask for the partnership. 

I tell you this not to make you think I am super brave or have it all figured out. I don't.

But, instead, to remind you that, if you like to do everything at 100 percent and have some perfectionistic tendencies: you will be OK if you fail. If criticism sends you reeling and just one person thinking you messed up keeps you awake at night: you will be OK if you fail. If you find yourself obsessing over earning, being the best and pleasing: you will be OK if you fail. If you find yourself still trying to get an A+ on everything, even if you're not being graded: you will be OK if you fail. 

And, in fact, you may find that you're better off once you do fail.

Because, when you fail,  you break free from the chains of perfectionism. You realize the world continues to spin, even if you mess up. You may even find that the things you learn, the courage you develop and the freedom you feel when you stop earning your worth is far, far more beautiful than any imaginary A+ you could ever earn.