A lightning bolt of clarity shot through the window of my boss’s corner office and struck the very core of my being. Sitting across the desk from him, my future suddenly came into sharp focus. Like the sweeping views of the flat Texas landscape outside the high-rise window, a new perspective of my current path unfolded before me. It was heading somewhere I had no interest in going.
Before long, my life would look like everyone else’s in this glass-covered cubicle farm. I would spend my days shuffling numbers between spreadsheets and presentations so a bunch of middle-aged white men could sit in a dark conference room congratulating themselves on their “accomplishments”. Afterward, they’d write themselves ridiculously large bonus checks for all their “hard work” while throwing only crumbs to everyone else.
I was on the path to becoming another cog in the corporate, capitalist machine chugging along, wreaking havoc on the planet and our society. If I let it, this system would take everything it could from me and leave only burnout, frustration, and a deep sense of emptiness in its wake.
In this potential future, I would drive my expensive, imported car home to my generic suburban McMansion. My days would be spent chained to a desk by those shiny golden handcuffs of continually increasing six-figure salaries, impressive titles, and corporate expense accounts. My evenings would be spent attempting to keep my soul from being completely crushed under the weight of a life completely at odds with my core truths and values.
To survive in their world, I’d have to lock my rebellious, non-conformist spirit away in a dark corner of my psyche. Otherwise, she would burn the whole thing to the ground. This path would lead me further and further away from everything I wanted for my life — fun, adventure, freedom, and wonder.
Now that I’d achieved “success” by society’s standards, I felt completely let down. I had everything my working-class upbringing taught me to strive for, and I was miserable. This was where I was supposed to find happiness and contentment. Instead, I found only drudgery, desolation, and despair.
Everyone around me seemed quite comfortable with their role in this world. However, it felt like I was putting on a facade every morning before I went into the office. It’s a persona that you wouldn’t recognize at all if you know me now. It felt like an itchy wool costume that was four sizes too small. I called it my ‘corporate suit’.
From this higher vantage point, brought about by a trip to corporate headquarters, I could see that there was no life-giving oasis ahead, only a barren wasteland for my soul.
I’d felt the rumblings of discontent in the past but chose to ignore them. Instead of addressing the core of my unease—an absolute misalignment of values—I simply jumped to another company, thinking my corporate suit would be more comfortable there. Shocker — it never was. The suit just got tighter and tighter until the moment it finally threatened to crush my wild and free spirit completely.
The truth was staring me in the face and there was nowhere to hide. I returned home determined to get off this path. The thought of destroying everything I’d worked so hard for was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. What would I even do?
I’d been led to believe this was the way to financial stability and a comfortable life. What other paths were even available? My world was shifting on its axis and everything I thought I knew was crashing down around me.
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but it only took one more night of my MBA program to harden my resolve. Since I hadn’t found a more comfortable corporate suit by changing companies, I’d gone back to school hoping there was one available if I climbed higher up the ladder. The experience in my boss’s office had shown me that was not going to be the case.
I spent the following week gathering all my courage. Before the next night of classes came around, I’d dropped out of the program. The overwhelming sense of relief was confirmation that I’d made the right decision. It felt like I’d set down a thousand-pound boulder I didn’t know I was carrying.
The first piece had been pulled from the foundation I’d built my life upon, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the rest came tumbling down. Until that happened, I would keep putting on that itchy corporate suit but with a new sense of purpose. I would channel all the energy I’d put into climbing the ladder toward restructuring my life so the tower wouldn’t crush me when it fell.
It took a full six months for the rest to fall apart. I got a new boss who could smell the stink of nonconformity oozing from my pores. She decided to make an arbitrary change to my schedule in an attempt to show me who was in charge. I refused to let that corporate suit get any tighter, and that was the end.
Walking out the door for the last time, I was shaking from head to toe, but I refused to let them see me sweat. I climbed into my 1999 red Honda CRV, set the last of my personal belongings on the passenger seat, and burst into tears. I had just survived the scariest thing I’d ever done.
A mix of relief and fear crashed over me as I tried to process what just happened — I’d turned my career to ashes in less than ten minutes. I couldn’t believe it was over! It took every single ounce of courage I possessed, but I’d successfully reclaimed my life. The possibilities ahead of me were endless. For the first time, at thirty years old, I would intentionally choose my own path. Though I had no idea what it would look like or where it would take me, I was finally free to find out.
That final day was March 12, 2012. The path I’ve walked since then has been anything but straight, but it’s been completely my own. Now, I listen to and follow my internal compass, which has yet to steer me wrong. The journey has been full of challenges and continually requires me to step out of my comfort zone, but I have never regretted the decision I made that day.
One of the most surprising lessons was discovering that once you’ve done the scariest thing you’ve ever done, all the other scary things are just a little bit easier. You can move forward knowing that you’ve already survived the big one, which means you’ll survive the next one too.
From that moment on, I’ve intentionally approached life as an explorer. Twelve years later, I’m still letting curiosity lead the way and allowing the path to unfold before me. Do I know exactly where I’m headed? Absolutely not. What I do know is that I’m exactly where I need to be right now. The next stop on the journey will make itself clear as I continue to gather information, learn, and trust my intuition.
Wrapping it Up
Though the route has looked something like the image below, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve done things and been to places others only dream about, not because I’m special but because I’ve chosen courage over comfort.
Have you ever had a similar moment? What did you do about it? I’d love to hear your story or whatever else you feel like sharing!
