In a lot of ways I feel like a cliche. You hit a certain age and all of a sudden you wondering how the hell you got here and you’re terrified that the rest of your life will go by as blindly, automatically, and quickly as the last few decades did. Fuck that. Seriously, FUCK THAT. After a lot of therapy, journaling, reading, learning and unlearning, I now know exactly how I got here.

I sit where I am in life today because of childhood trauma, internalized expectations family and society, and both consciously and unconsciously prioritizing all the things I SHOULD do in order to get a good job, get that promotion, make a certain amount of money, buy that house, etc. Growing up, my mom (a teacher), would sometimes let me skip school if there was a test I wasn’t prepared for or a project that I hadn’t yet finished. As long as I did what I needed to do on my “day off” in order to set me up for success the next day when I return to school. She always told me, “school is a game, you just need to learn how to play it.” By the time I was a senior in high school she would regularly leave me late notes for the attendance office on the kitchen table when she would leave for work and I was still in bed (a little context here is that the first semester of my senior year I took an 8am class at the local University, so when that class wrapped up I had a free period in my high school schedule during second semester). The catch was that I had to continue to get good grades. It was up to me to decide, “Am I going to class today? Well I know I have that exam coming up so I really should.” or “Am I going to class today? Well I just turned in that essay so I know today is going to be a slow day….soooo, I’m going to sleep in.” I learned to apply my mom’s “school is a game, ya just gotta learn how to play it RIGHT” lesson to other parts of my life and eventually my motto evolved into, “Life’s a game…you just gotta learn how to play it!”

I used to applaud myself for this because it felt like a life hack. I learned where to apply the bear minimum in order get the outcome I wanted. This helped me tremendously in college and earlier on in my career. I seemed to know when, where, and how I had to preform to certain people in order to get what I wanted. I wanted a certain GPA in school and a certain role, title, promotion, or salary in my professional life. And you know what? It worked. (The role of inherited financial and racial privilege that I had working in my favor is not lost on me, but that’s a series of thought dumps for another time because they warrant their own time and space to fully explore). I received those degrees, those promotions, those pay raises, and countless opportunities that reinforced my trajectory.

I (what feels like) weaseled my way up from associate, to manager, to senior manager, to eventually director of an extremely successful program at an environmental non-profit, which had been my goal to work at since I was 17. I stumbled into a generous six figure salary that I never expected to have (I thought working in the nonprofit space, especially the environmental nonprofit space meant I was going to be broke my entire life. Do you know how many boomers told me that when I began to pursue that path??). I managed to complete a bachelors and master’s degree without any debt (ahem…privilege!!!!) so I could use my generous salary to buy a house (in 2021 when the interest rates were still ridiculously low). I finagled all that before I even hit 30.

I was living the dream, right? Yes. By all accounts I was. So why was I still fucking miserable literally constantly? I was playing the game and I was winning! I was doing the bear minimum to get what I wanted and I was getting it! The title, the salary, the house. It’s not like I wasn’t grateful for those things. My home is my sanctuary and my work at the non-profit is what I hold the most pride in, aside from my relationship with my partner, in my entire life. My manager and I at the time created a fucking MACHINE of a program that grew 500x under our leadership. It drove policy and research around access to recycling across the country. It drove legislation around material health of consumer packaged goods packaging. It drove hundreds of corporations’ packaging sustainability and waste diversion goals. We made a fucking impact. We literally left a legacy that will truly outlive us. That’s so fucking cool.

I’ve since learned that there is a lot to unpack about WHY I was miserable all the time. See line 1 of paragraph 2. But point being, I had “it all”, fuck, I still “have it all”, and I’ve spent the last year wondering why am I still so fucking depressed? Why am I so anxious I literally can’t even get myself to walk to the grocery store that is ONE BLOCK away to pick up something I want and/or need? Why am I constantly looking for something else professionally? What am I running away from? Eventually I figured out what I’ve been (and continue to, although now I’m more aware of it and try to address it when I catch myself) running from. Myself.

You know how when you read a book, listen to a podcast, or follow some account on instagram and think, “wow, they’ve done it. They created the life they wanted for themselves”? All to often you hear those people say, “yeah, I was working my 9-5 and I started this blog, account, or business on the side and eventually it gained enough momentum that I was able to quite my W2 job to work for myself.” That’s great for them. Honestly, that’s so great and I’m genuinely so envious and crave that for myself. But I find it irritating as hell the way those narratives are so often conveyed. They made it sound like they just had this super convenient skill or interest or talent in their back pocket that they were able to whip out and execute after a long day of work. You know what I want to do after a long day of work? Get stoned and watch Real Housewives or (almost) any other Bravo show. I don’t have the energy to do my job and THEN do another job that doesn’t pay me any money after that! Cool, I’m glad THEY have that endurance. That clarity of mind. That skill. I don’t. And therefor I can’t.

“I can’t do that.” That has been my thought process for honestly the last two years. It wasn’t until this week that I realized, oh wait…maybe the internet is lying to me. Maybe that’s not the full story. Maybe the journey was long and confusing and draining and infuriating for them too. Maybe they were fucking miserable for a long ass time too and they’re just not putting all their cards out on the table.

I’m in a place in my life where I finally know what I WANT. Fuck the societal expectations of career trajectory. What if I realized I don’t want that anymore? The standard “right” path sure as hell didn’t equate to personal happiness, so maybe just maybe, I have the power to play the game differently. Change the endgame from a capitalism driven insatiable need for more professional power, more money, to one where I’m working for my peace. My joy for life. My creative expression. My independence. Maybe endgame is creating a life for myself where I’m not fuggin miserable every day. I refuse to believe that that’s not possible. I finally have a specific craving for how I want to live my life and I can visualize it so goddamn clearly. I see it, I feel it, and I love it. I’m manifesting that shit. Life’s a game and you just need to know how to play it, right??? So if you want to join in on this journey of creating the life we WANT for ourselves, come come come along.

There’s no gate keeping here. I have my deck in front of me. Can I show you my hand?

C