Today, March 1, 2011, was the day of no return for me: I quit my job. Writing these four words feels amazing, but also terrifying, exhilarating, scary, exciting, surreal, incredible, and in many ways indescribable.
As I write this, I'm listening to “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone. Her lyrics “A new dawn / A new day / A new life for me / And I feel good” best describe how I'm feeling right now.
A new beginning.
Fresh start.
The start of something exciting.
Yesterday, February 28, 2011, was my last day wearing a suit and tie at work. For 12 years, starting at age 18, I worked nearly 80 hour weeks to climb the corporate ladder at a large Midwest telecommunications company. I rose from retail sales associate to sales director, store manager, regional manager, and most recently to operations director for 150 retail stores, where I led hundreds of employees and managed multi-million dollar operating budgets. During my tenure, I opened dozens of retail stores, hired hundreds of employees, and helped many people grow professionally.
And I was really good at my job. Over the past few years, I'd earned back-to-back President's Club trips to London and Hawaii for my stellar sales performance. I'd hired some of the best people in the industry who quickly rose through the ranks within the organization (like Ryan, who now runs this website with me, and Stan, one of my best friends). And, I was poised to become a C-level executive before I turned 40. In other words, I was successful.
So when I announced my retirement last month, it seemed absurd to most. Dozens of employees asked me where I was going and if they could come with me. Not many understood when I said I was changing the course of my life. After all, I was living the American Dream. Wasn't I? A six-figure salary, a big house in the suburbs, several luxury cars, and all the other perks that filled every inch of my consumer-driven lifestyle. Who on earth would give that up?
Of course, I'm not here to impress you with the details of my so-called “great” career. If I thought my “achievements” were great — if I was happy with my lifestyle — I probably wouldn't have quit in the first place.
Rather, I would like to Make an impression It was that I needed a change. Sure, I was succeeding on the surface, but I wasn't feeling successful. I was overwhelmed, stressed, and depressed.
To make matters worse, I was drowning in debt. Sure, I made a lot of money in corporate life, but for most of my adult life, I spent more than I made. This was a destructive equation, regardless of income.
The truth is, even though I was a high-paid, highly-ranked, corporate dreamer, I wasn't completely happy because I had lost sight of what was truly important: I was unhealthy, my relationships were falling apart, I had no passion for life, and I was trying to cover all of this up by collecting trinkets and trophies.
Sadly, I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late. My mother passed away two years ago, in 2009, and my marriage ended the same month. Soon after, I discovered minimalism and began to make radical changes: I took control of my finances again, rebuilt my relationships, and asked hard questions about the direction of my life.
Eventually, I realized that I wasn't pursuing my passions, I wasn't growing as an individual, and I wasn't making a meaningful contribution beyond myself.
I wasn't living my dream, I was living a lie.
But today, that chapter has ended.
To be clear, I didn't storm into my boss's office and scream, “Fuck it, I'm quitting!” I just had mixed feelings about leaving my job, I cared about a lot of the people there, and I enjoyed the work itself.
So my “fuck it” has nothing to do with my old job. I'm not quitting my job. It's not about the job. Instead, I'm moving away from my old lifestyle. I need to stop lying and start living my life.
How will I make a living? To be honest, I don't know, but I've been working hard for the past two years to drastically reduce my bills and pay off a lot of debt. Sure, I need to make enough money to pay the electric bill, but making money is no longer a priority. I only need to work to make enough money to live. I don't need to live to work.
My initial plan was to work as a part-time barista at a local coffee shop and earn enough to cover living expenses like food, rent, utilities, and insurance while writing full-time. Maybe one day this writing will become my full-time source of income. But even if it doesn't, that's okay, because I'm passionate about writing, and literary fiction in particular. (Update 2012: Just a year later, I'm happy to report that I'm making a full-time living as a writer. Though it's still significantly less than my corporate salary, I've recently changed the way I think about money and I've never been happier.)
Instead of wasting my time trying to pack a bunch of people into a cubicle farm, I decided to focus on my real priorities: health, relationships, passion, growth, and contribution. These values, not money, things, or titles on business cards, form the foundation of a meaningful life.
I contribute to people through this website, I'm grateful that people find value here, and I also contribute through other means such as charity and donating my time to help others.
Writing and contributing. That's what I'm doing now. I refuse to be a slave to cultural expectations, to the trappings of money, power, and apparent success. So I say goodbye to my old life. Fuck it, no more!
Update: Read Ryan Nicodemus' essay, “Getting Fired from a Six-Figure-A-Year Job.” You can also subscribe to The Minimalists for free via email. If you find The Minimalists valuable, please consider donating $1.
