The Great Escape from my Corporate Career
A Rocky Start to My Career
I sat at my tiny workstation and pushed my sunglasses up on my nose and peered into my computer screen. The numbers came into focus, finally. I had been reduced to this latest humiliation, of wearing my sunglasses indoors, in order to analyze the research data in front of me.
My vision had been getting fuzzier and fuzzier as the week had progressed and the data needing analysis had grown, rather than shrunk no matter how quickly I worked.
Between the glare of my computer screen and some sort of triangulation of the fluorescent lights overhead, my eyes were overcome with glare. I could barely keep them open. And when I forced them open, tears streaked down my cheeks.
When I asked if I could move my computer stand to alleviate the glare, the answer had been a solid “No.” The sunglasses were a last resort, and garnered an eye-roll from everyone and especially from the Big Guy in the corner office – from whence the “No.” had come. For whatever reason, he was very intent on keeping me in my place. My place, at the time, was minion sales and research assistant, at this tiny glare-filled work station.
It was just another micro humiliation in a series of them. First, the footprint of my workspace was basically the footprint of my desk / computer stand. I was perched between cubicles in a high traffic area because, at the time, I didn’t even have enough clout to be awarded a crappy cubicle.
So, have I ever dreamed of escaping from my career? Yes. I hated the fluorescent lights and the too-cold air conditioning beating down on me. I just wanted to be outside. Why did work have to be such a slam to my soul?
But, things slowly got better.
Fast forward years, maybe even a decade or two and things had gotten better. I had changed jobs a few times, gotten and MBA, and eventually had that coveted cubicle, and then an office or two. So, things had improved, but still the fluorescent lights and frigid air conditioning persisted. As did the humiliation, though it took on a different hue.
As I got more senior, I began to manage others, worked on more interesting and complex projects, and had a little more power. Boredom, an early career companion, had been replaced with relentless stress and long hours brought on by massive projects and tight deadlines.
But, I also had been awarded more senior titles like Director and VP; had increased my salary to the point where money was not even something I thought about much anymore.
Life was good. My career was good. Still, I still dreamed of escape.
But, The Ache did not abate.
Not only did I dream of escape. I longed for something else. I ached to do meaningful work. I wanted to have a purpose. I so wanted to be connected to something larger than myself. But what?
Do you know the ache I felt? Have you felt it like I did, sitting in a boardroom, looking out the window and feeling the physical pull for my life to mean something. But what?
For me, this lack of meaning turned into depression. There were long periods where I had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. The idea of facing yet another day of meaningless drudgery filled me with despair.
Still, I stayed. And stayed. And stayed.
I’d like to say that I woke up from this horrible nightmare, gave myself a pep talk, and went out into the world and discovered my own unique place in it.
But, I did not. I did the opposite of escaping. I stayed. Others left; I stayed. Companies I worked for changed ownership; I stayed (even over-stayed). Others got promoted ahead of me; I stayed.
You might think me loyal and steadfast. But, no, that’s not it. I stayed because I was afraid.
Fear. Capital F.
Afraid of what, you ask? Everything. People, new situations, rejection, poverty. You name it, I shrunk from it.
Somehow, I had built a prison out of my drudgery, my routine, and my fear.
I rationalized, I settled. I dug in.
As time passed, I felt ashamed. I got burned out. I burned with the resentment of my untapped potential.
“These walls are funny. First you hate them, then you get used to them. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That’s institutionalized.”
Not so inspiring. Yet.
This is where, as a guide and a coach, I’d like to tell you an inspiring story of my corporate escape. In fact, it would be awesome to have an awesome narrative on how I overcame all this to go after the job of my dreams, became in demand just by showing up, making six figures, overnight, doing what I love.
However, my story is more circuitous than that. It’s a story of starts and stops; of wrong paths; of money worries; of regret. It’s a story that includes shame and hiding and heartbreaking humility.
I imagine at some point, it could look like a Hero’s Journey. But, I’m not quite there yet. That would be a major reframe.
A light. Maybe.
What actually happened was that one of my dreams came true. I received a hefty severance package when the start-up I worked at folded. At the time, I was completely burned out, exhausted, and had spent the better part of the previous year biting my tongue, lest a scream erupt.
This happened in October, and I developed a plan where I’d take time off until after Christmas, then I’d go out and find that dream job. What actually happened was that I Rip Van Winkled the entire year away. So deep was my exhaustion that I slept 10 to 14 hours a night for the better part of a year. Not including naps. It’s tough to look for a job when you go to bed at 10pm and wake up at noon the next day. I felt so very lucky that I had this opportunity to regain my strength. Many do not. For this, I am forever grateful.
During that time, I went to therapy, did yoga, walked a lot, read all the books I’d meant to read, hung with my cats. I remember one morning in particular, sitting on my couch in my beautiful Toronto condo with my book in my lap, my steaming coffee within reach, and a snowstorm pelting my windows. I felt such deep peace and so much gratitude as I drank in the moment, realizing that at least part of my dream had come true.
I enjoyed the goodness that a break brought.
However, I am here to tell you that when you have no plan, no income, and no way of developing a plan or income, that it’s difficult to hold on to that dreamy feeling.
Yes, I was incredibly fortunate to have this reprieve because of the savings I had. I had been blessed with a former boss who went to battle for me so I had the luxury of this much-needed year of rest.
But, now what? At that point, I still thought it was all going to work out in a neat and dreamy way. Boy, was I wrong.
Don’t get me wrong. Wonderful things happened. I met the love of my life, got married, moved from Canada to the US (I still love Canada!), exchanged my condo for a house in the suburbs with a garden and a pool and more than enough space. So much goodness.
And yet …
Do what you love ... yeah, right.
From a work perspective, I remained lost. But now, I was alone, without income, without a network, without prospects. Back then, I still had hope.
So, I did what “they” say to do.
- Do what you love, and the money will follow.
- Leap and the net will appear.
- Feel the fear and do it anyway
I launched a fine art photography business; I became an Ashtanga Yoga Teacher; I wrote a novel; I started a paper crafting business; I trained to be a floral designer; I tried my hand at being a marketing consultant.
All winners by heart measurement; all failures by money measurement. My savings dwindling, I entered my anxious years. And, when I say anxious, I mean can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t have a normal conversation anxiety. My heart goes out to anyone with anxiety, because that is some tough, tough stuff.
I’m not in that space these days and hope to never return to that awful time.
Not so much of a Great Escape
Circling back to the title of this post, “My Great Escape”, I feel like I should apologize if this was misleading. The photo of the labyrinth was a clue.
Maybe you’re hoping I’ll get to the inspiring part. I did indeed escape my corporate career, but it was more of a fumble in the dark than a great escape.
Also, I went back. The money anxiety became unbearable; I missed the comraderie of my former team mates; I missed the work and the rush of a challenge met and the feeling of exceeding expectations.
I returned with so my gratitude in my heart for those things that the fluorescent lights and relentless air conditioning were merely footnotes on an exhilarating chapter.
Until I got punted (again) due to being on the wrong side of some politics. Blessed again with a hefty severance package, this time I vowed to do it right. I really wanted to take all the lessons I’d learned and take this second chance at a fresh start, and make it work.
As this has turned out to be much longer than I’d originally anticipated, I’ve broken it into two parts. Go to Part 2 here.
