In journalism, the lead always comes first. It's meant to get the consumer to the point of the story...fast. So, here's mine: I'm closing this chapter on my job and have a one-way ticket to South America for the summer.
The decision to leave didn't start with a plane ticket. It's been unraveling for a while.
I was climbing up the highest mountain in Mexico last February when I decided to bail. I had only climbed around a thousand feet when I told my guide through ragged breaths that I was ready to turn around. I had been thinking about it since we started at 1am. I almost didn't even try. I'd climbed a (slightly) smaller mountain the day before and was exhausted from that. If I was being honest with myself, I was in over my head to begin with. BUT. I had planned my entire trip around that climb. To try. So, I gave it my best, knowing it probably wouldn't be enough. On the way up, the discomfort got to me. Aside from the exhaustion, overstimulation was about to cause me to yeet myself off the mountain. My pants kept falling down, my gloves were too small to grip anything (including said pants), the warm hat kept sliding back along with my helmet, my nose was running, I had on three layers of everything, there was some self-induced vomiting from the altitude nausea. As much as I HATED saying out loud that I wanted to stop, I did it and we turned around. After a few minutes of disappointment and shame for not finishing what I’d set out to do, the first light of morning started cresting over the mountains at 15,000 feet and I was wrapped in relief. Bee-bopping down that mountain, clumsy crampons and all. Misery is not a badge of honor, misery is not a badge of honor, misery is not a badge of honor…..
That trip came at a time when I was questioning if I needed to bail on my job, too. My job that was (in theory) the peak of my career. The one my parents were so proud to tell everyone about. The job I spent four years going to school for and eight years climbing the ladder for. At some point, the climb stopped feeling like growth and started feeling like survival.
Walking away was a thought I kept tucked away in the back of my mind for a while. Until I soft launched it to a friend one afternoon. I do this with most decisions, especially the ones that require any risk. I say the scary thing and then scan the faces of friends, acquaintances, and strangers to see if they think it's a good idea and a safe one. If they think I can do it. (Yes, I'm in therapy thank you.) When I told her I thought it was time, she said, "You know better than anyone when it's time to walk away from something." There it was. Permission to trust myself. I thought of the mountain and the discomfort. And how hard it was to choose to stop. But, I’d rarely applied that kind of self-trust to anything with actual risk. Definitely not decisions that could disrupt stability and fling me into the unknown.
On the day I finally told my boss, the sun was shining and there was a chill in the air. I put some extra cheese on my eggs and sat on the side of the bed with my plate in my lap where the sun beams through my favorite window. The birds outside sang extra loud. Crosby was at my feet, waiting to lick the plate, which he delights in every morning. I’d like to think this was the equivalent of the sun cresting over the mountains. Relief, once again, cradled me.
This season broke me open, but it also built me back wiser. It allowed me to tap into a power and a knowing I didn't know I had. I'm proud of myself for trying. I'm prouder for walking away.
I hope to try the mountain again someday. And I hope to maybe step into a similar role with better tools in my toolbox. But for now, I’m heading to Peru on June 11.1 I have three months to reset, to be curious, and a pull to write. And I don’t know much other than that.
My things are in storage. I don’t have a plan for when I get back. I don’t have a job lined up. I don’t even know what I want to do.
But, I do have trust in myself. Trust that it was right to leave, trust in the timing of taking the leap, trust that I'll always figure it out.
This experience is brought to you by a place of privilege and that is not something I take lightly :)
Hi, Megan. I just want to add my words of support and tell you how happy I am for you. I admire your conviction and courage on this and I hope you find the space and peace you need in the next little while. It's hard to leave in a situation like this, but I can tell you from experience you can come back (if you so choose) and at absolute worst, life goes on and you just sort of figure it out as you go because I have no doubt you have a wonderful support system of friends and loved ones around you. All the best! -Ed
I am so proud of you! I hope that you know how incredible you are. I admire your strength and adventure and the beauty you choose to experience in this life. I pray this next chapter blows your mind in the best way! I look forward to what you choose to share. I love you, my Gorgeous!!