so i quit my first big girl job.

There is no blueprint for life. I know that. And you know that. Yet, I scroll on LinkedIn, searching the pages of people in my sector, hoping that the information that lies underneath their experience and education sections will give me direction on how I should live my life. I have never felt so lost. 

When I graduated from college, my plan was to find a job. I wanted real life experience in the workforce. I didn’t want to hide behind what I am good at, which is school. So I searched for a role. In all honesty I didn’t even know what I was looking for. When asked, I told people that I wished I could have a job doing what I did with C4 at school. For those who aren’t familiar, in college I led an environmental justice organization called Campus Coalition Concerning Chester, better known as C4. I worked alongside Chester Residents Concerned for Quality Living (CRCQL) to fight against environmental racism and build towards environmental justice in Chester, PA. I was an organizer and I deeply enjoyed it. However, I struggled to imagine how that could translate to the workforce. Writing this nearly a year later, I still do.

After four months of job searching, which entailed me applying to and being rejected from journalism, communications, urban agriculture, receptionist, and other roles I can’t even remember, I found a role that was everything I wanted. It was just like the work I was doing with C4 and it was with a reputable org in Brooklyn. Four rounds of interviews later, I got the job.

Fast forward six months later, I was drafting my resignation letter. I won’t bore you with the details because honestly ask any Gen Z working at a nonprofit why they want to quit their job and it's the same story. Toxic workplace environment, lack of clear communication from leadership (or inappropriate/unfavorable communication from leadership), burnout, weird emotional outbursts from adults ten+ years your senior, and so on and so forth. After talking to my friends who’ve had similar experiences, I’ve learned that there is a problem with toxic leadership in the workforce (which is like, duh girl). 

Leaving that job was easier than I thought it would be. What’s proven difficult is existing in the wake of my departure. I know that wasn’t the place for me. And, I know that in twenty years when I look back at those six months they’ll feel small in comparison to how all encompassing they feel now. But right now, I’d be lying to you if I said a part of me wasn’t questioning if I should’ve tried harder to make it work. Questioning if I should have played the game better.

Looking back, there were so many red flags in pursuit of the job offer and once I acquired the job that felt benign to a fresh college graduate. I thought that the path I was on at the job was teaching me that the “dream” doesn’t come easy (I blame this hustle mindset on millennials). So, I tried my best to stay and make it work, but there was resistance with every attempt. At some point, I recognized that if a path is showing me too much resistance it just may not be the path for me. And that a “dream” anything would never require me to sit idly by while other people get mistreated. It wouldn’t try to manipulate me. 

It’s been a month and a half since I quit that job. In that time, I applied and received admission to grad school to get a Masters of Science in Childhood Education. I always planned on pursuing a Masters in Ed and my time working affirmed that I want to further my qualifications in Education. I started researching the program about a month before I quit my job. By the time I quit and decided to apply, I had about three weeks to get my application in for the extended deadline. I managed to complete my essays with the help of peer-review from my besties and get my letters of recommendation from two amazingly supportive professors within two weeks. Though I was told admissions results could take up to 6-8 weeks, I was accepted into the program a week after the deadline. And honestly, it feels like driving down the street and hitting nothing but green lights.

But, I still feel lost. I still need a job while I’m doing my program, and I’m not having luck finding one. But then again it’s only been a month and it took me four to find the last one. I’m scared to see if teaching will be even more of a hot mess than my job was. But even if it is, I’ll still have a Masters of Ed degree and there is a lot I can do with that outside the traditional classroom. Most of my fears can be calmed with reason. I also have to remember that I’m only 22 and what I do in my youth is not the end-all-be-all of my life. This ain’t even my prime. I just need to relax, experience the journey, and stop rushing trying to see how everything unfolds. 

When I sought out my previous role, I was rushing to say I was doing something with my life which left me feeling desperate. And desperation will have you accepting conditions and treatment you never would. It had me fighting to prove my value. Four rounds of interviews had my head spinning questioning what about me wasn’t enough. At the beginning of my time there, I forgot who I was and all that I brought with me because I was trying to make myself smaller in order to navigate office politics. By the end, I learned that even when I try to make myself small, my passion, my talent, and my heart shine anyways. I remembered that even though that place is a big fish in my field, nobody there assigned me my value and nobody there can take it away. I know that I made the right decision by leaving. And I know that I am not alone in what I experienced. At the end of the day, I am in pursuit of authenticity. I will find work and opportunities that are real, raw, and aligned. 

Post-grad has been one of the most confusing, challenging, difficult, and boring times of my life. But simultaneously, it has been elucidating, entertaining, and serendipitous. With this understood, did I make the right decision leaving my well paying job in the middle of the shittiest job market we’ve ever seen? Yes. Did I have a plan when I did it? Kind of. Do I regret it? No. Did I feel confident about any of this before I made my decision? No. All I had, and all I will ever have, is trust in myself that I (and my mama) will always be there to catch me if I fall. 

P.S

Don’t ever let nobody piss on your leg and tell you it’s raining. Even if they’re a meteorologist.