I Quit My Job to Focus On My Mental Health — Here’s Why
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In mid-December, with only a couple of weeks left in 2022, I resigned from my full-time job.
No, I didn’t have another job lined up, which some people would deem irresponsible, maybe even insane, in this economic climate.
So why leave my job and the steady paycheck? The TL;DR version: It felt like my life depended on it. My quality of life was deteriorating and it was affecting the people closest to me. I needed time to tend to my mental health and well-being. I needed space to recover.
Needless to say, this wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction or a decision that I took lightly. Rather, it’s something I envisioned for months. I prayed, discussed it with my husband, shared my plan with friends, and reassessed my financial goals. Then a few things converged to bring me to this moment.
First, let’s talk about burnout
I started 2022 with my tank on “E.”
I was somewhat disillusioned yet hopeful by the premise that 2022 was “the beginning of a new normal” after surviving the past couple of years. And like many of us at the start of each new year, I was filled with hope and promise that a simple flip of the calendar from December 31 to January 1 would bring forth some sort of positive change. Some version of normalcy, even.
That glimmer of hope quickly dissipated after our family of four tested positive for COVID-19 the second week of January. Yes, caring for two small boys (who had virtually no symptoms) while nursing myself back to health was physically taxing. But I wasn’t prepared for the overwhelming hopelessness that came with the positive diagnosis, and decided to stick around even after we were in the clear. Any hope that 2022 would be different from 2020 or 2021 was gone within a matter of weeks. And in my mind, there were 11 months left with more of the same.
This blew out the tiny flame that was holding out for just a little more fuel. I was burnt out.
It’s important to note that burnout comes in different shapes and sizes. Like many of us, I was struggling with parental burnout following the onslaught of the pandemic. For most of 2020 and half of 2021, I juggled two toddler boys and nearly eight hours of Zoom meetings each day. Any time I had to myself was filled with work that didn’t get done during regular work hours. I was constantly over-extended, overly stressed, and overstimulated. On top of that, we learned our then 4-year-old is autistic, and we had to navigate assessments, challenging behaviors, and all the emotions that come with this type of diagnosis. It was tough.
I also made a couple of career transitions in the last three years. I pivoted from one marketing discipline to another. And I switched companies for an opportunity I felt was serendipitous. But I quickly discovered the volatility that often comes with working in tech thanks to an acquisition that set off a series of changes in said company. While I developed and improved a few soft skills, like my learning agility, the constant ambiguity started to take a toll. Though I had a great team and decent work-life balance, I struggled with unclear expectations, sometimes dysfunctional workplace dynamics, and the lack of control over my work — mostly driven by these constant changes. I started to question myself and the value I can bring after not seeing it materialize for months on end.
It’s also hard to ignore that my transition coincides with a larger trend happening among other Black women leaving the workforce. The additional pressures and biases we experience in most corporate environments only exacerbate the challenges we face and contribute to our burnout.
In her latest book, The Light We Carry, Former FLOTUS Michelle Obama detailed the extent to which we must conform, present as less “other,” or ignore the self-consciousness about being a Black woman in a predominantly white space. In sharing her friends’ experience in weighing the risks and rewards of being more fully seen and heard as themselves, she wrote:
“In many instances, they were trying to figure out whether they could last in their jobs — whether or not they’d find enough bandwidth to advance and thrive, or whether too much hiding or worrying would ultimately lead them to feel demoralized and burned-out.”
These pressures are often invisible to our non-Black counterparts, but that doesn’t make them any less real or valid. And they’ve undoubtedly been a contributing factor to my professional burnout.
This all kickstarted a journey of self-discovery for me
I knew I couldn’t settle into complacency, even though that felt like the easiest option. Like many other women like me, I wrongfully took this as a sign that I needed to work harder. I doubled-down on my career goals: I wanted to land a director-level role within the next few years. I took two leadership courses simultaneously. I sought out mentors. I continued going to therapy religiously. And I invested in a coach.
Something unexpected happened though. I learned more about myself: my strengths, areas that needed improvement, my values, and most importantly, things that did not align with my values. And with this discovery came a high level of dissonance between my day-to-day life — including what I was striving for — and the life I was yearning for at my core.
This phase also deepened my relationship with God. I felt lost with no sense of direction and no one was able to tell me where to go or what to do. Rightfully so, these were my choices to make. So I turned to my faith and relinquished any control I thought I had. I listened, obeyed, and watched as my world began to shake up and grow even more uncomfortable.
At this point, I could no longer ignore the impact on my mental health
I was fragile. Any disturbance, change, or criticism — trivial or meaningful — would send me over the edge. And if I’m certain about anything, it’s that things don’t always happen as planned or expected. That’s life. A mentally healthy me can weather and cope with that reality. The mentally fragile version of me considered each occurrence a mild catastrophe that would throw my body into fight-flight-freeze mode. My nervous system was constantly under attack.
And the stress and anxiety started manifesting physically. I had a couple of anxiety attacks under my belt. Plus a few doctor visits due to strange symptoms that couldn’t be linked to a physical illness. A racing heartbeat and shallow breathing became my default state from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning.
I was mentally sick. And I knew continuing on in this state wasn’t sustainable or rewarding for anyone — not my family, not my team, and especially not for myself.
I knew a career break was my only option
Yes, I tried applying for other jobs. But the tech job market is in shambles and I wasn’t excited about any of the available roles. Honestly, I started to resent anything related to marketing and corporate America in general. I decided I didn’t want to bring this baggage into another role.
I needed a complete reset. I wanted time to regulate my nervous system. To reassess my goals and align them with my values. And to create a life outside of work that feels nourishing and expansive instead of trying to squeeze in life around work.
My dear friend, Dr. Courtney McCluney, wrote an article recently questioning whether women actually have a choice when it comes to their career. In her words:
“Like all relationships, there comes a time when we must renegotiate the terms to align with our personal goals and work is no exception. Typically, women make compromises and negotiations with their partners and children to make work work for them. But the record-breaking number of women exiting full-time work suggests that this isn’t an issue with the women, but an issue with corporate America. For some women, this breakup may have felt abrupt and unplanned, but for others it was a slow burn(out).”
I couldn’t agree more. And as I mentioned, many things converged to bring me to this point. A career break felt like my only option.
I don’t know what the outcome of this time will be. Will I return to a corporate job after a few months? Possibly. But for now, I’m delving into my passions and interests. I’m writing more (hence, this article) and my first piece as a contributing writer for Chief was just published. I’m investing time into building my passion project, Human Over Perfect, to help my fellow Black and brown women combat perfectionism through mental wellness. I’m devoting my time to my family and home: being more present with my boys, prioritizing quality time with my husband, and creating a welcoming and nurturing space.
Most importantly, I’m loving and nourishing myself: exercising regularly, eating better, resting more, and even having midday conversations with close friends. My life is getting more spacious and expansive, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to fill it with things that bring me joy and contentment.
Cheers to starting 2023 with my tank on “full!”
