I was just one month into my new role when I realized that something wasn’t right. After years of careful decision-making and hard work to get me to this place, the thought that frequented my mind was: “This is not the place for me.”
This thought was inconvenient. So, I leveraged my legal training and presented myself with counter-arguments.
It’s not the job, it’s me.
Maybe this is just what work feels like – work.
This is a really great job, objectively.
I worked hard to get here – I can’t let that effort go to waste.
I have nothing to complain about – so many people are suffering more.
I can make this work.
I don’t know what I’ll do instead, so I’ll stay until I know.
A couple of years later, I remained firmly in place. My intuition had succumbed to my clever counter-arguments. I felt stuck, disengaged and, on my worst days, depressed.
Why did I wait until I was suffering to make a change?
When I paused to examine my thoughts, fear was everywhere. Fear of the unknown. Fear of instability. Fear of judgment. Fear of having to create a new identity. Fear of making another mistake. If all of my decisions had led me to this place – a place I did not want to be – I feared I could no longer trust myself.
ABIDING
Eventually, with my physical and mental health declining, I was forced to acknowledge the toll all those perceived dangers took on my life. My concern about future risk placed me in actual risk. I finally abided by that voice that had been there all along, calling me to make a change. But what to do next?
If fear had led me astray, what would happen if I rebelled against fear and made choices out of faith? Faith that the future would be better. Faith that I will have enough. Faith that, even if my next step is a misstep, I could trust my future self to be resilient. This faith would lend me courage to make choices that truly align with who I am and what I want. My life design would reflect my innate design – in other words, my life would be my own.
I let myself ask questions that felt risky, radical, and not at all pragmatic. What do I want? If I could create any kind of life, assuming every option was available to me, what would I do? If I could start from scratch, with no filter, no inhibitions, no obstacles, how would I design my life?
This was a meaningful shift.
When fear fell away, I began to think of the bright spots in my personal and professional life. What were the moments that were most fulfilling and engaging? It was coaching, connecting, learning, and sharing. It was providing insights. It was supporting people through difficult seasons of transition.
I imagined a career made of my bright spots all strung together, like a strand of colorful beads. Then I let myself believe it was possible to do work that truly engages me.
UPON ARRIVAL
I’ve arrived on the other side of my career transition (with tons of support and work – a story for another time) and things are clearer on this side. I can now refute those fear-driven arguments that kept me stuck. I feel bolstered by evidence from clients who’ve also challenged these thoughts and realized their career transitions.
It’s not the job, it’s me.
It’s the job. You are designed in a unique way – work that’s incompatible with how you are designed is not your work.
Maybe this is just what work feels like – work.
Not all work is created equal. Some roles will feel engaging to you only 10% of the time, until you make that 10% your entire job.
This is a really good job, objectively.
Objectively good is irrelevant. It does not take into consideration the opinion that actually matters – your own. Aim for a job that feels good, subjectively.
I worked hard to get here – I can’t let that effort go to waste.
A concept from economics that has served me well is a “sunk cost” – an investment that can’t be recovered. From an economist’s view, it is irrational to invest in something that no longer serves you simply because you’ve already invested something. The most rational move is to invest from this moment forward in what serves you.
I have nothing to complain about – so many people are suffering more.
Reduce your suffering and you reduce suffering in the world. Your suffering matters, too. Also, it’s not easy to make a positive impact while you’re suffering. Feeling good is usually a prerequisite to doing good.
I can make this work.
With enough determination, you probably can. But then, this determination suggests that you can make something else work, too.
I don’t know what I’ll do instead, so this will have to do.
Getting clear is both hard work and entirely achievable. Take a step. Find thought partners. You’ll be rewarded for your efforts – with clarity comes the tenacity to act.
SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
Whether your thoughts about transition appear on this list, do not appear, or are yet unknown, I hope this exercise inspires you to consider carefully and challenge critically those fears holding you back.
It takes courage to confront fear, but as you do, something unexpected happens. Your courage grows.
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