The After-Party

Hey, hey, hey friends. How the heck are you??

In the days (weeks?) since I’ve seen you last, there have been some pretty hefty changes ’round here. And no, I am not referring to my new logo image. (But she IS a beaut, ain’t she!?)

1. I quit my job.

2. Bryan and I purchased a home carpet shampooer.

3. I decided to give the wild and crazy vegetarian lifestyle a shot.

4. I realized that the only meat that I will ever really “miss” is bacon. (Directly related to number three.)

5. We booked a DJ.

6. Allie the Dog can now react to the hand signals for sit, lay down, and bite my hand.

Clearly, I have had a busy couple of weeks.

The namesake for today’s post comes directly from the very first item on the above list. The fact that I quit my job.

Even in posts prior to today’s, it really didn’t take much reading-between-the-lines to figure out that I was unhappy at work. What I think I did a relatively decent job of doing was masking the depth of my misery. From the time I first started working (I had my first babysitting job at twelve and landed my first part-time job (which ultimately turned into a full-time job in college and provided me with my first foray into management in time) when I was just 15), I loved working hard. I was that (ridiculously over-committed) girl in college who worked full-time, went to school full-time and picked up as many gigs on the side as I could.

I am no stranger to hard work. In fact, for a while, it defined me.

I’ve managed reluctant teenage workers, lived and worked at the state fair as a brand-ambassador for a winery, I have nannied, pitched out donkey runs, and so much more. But nothing, nothing at all could have prepared me for the undertaking that I began late last fall.

The issues that I faced were not at all related to the actual work that I was doing, although it was fast-paced and cutthroat, I could handle that. In fact, sometimes, the nature of the work sparked my inner competitive edge that allowed me to succeed and even thrive. At times, I was recognized, I was given  occasional bonuses, and praised.

None of that buffered the fact that I worked for a someone whose sense of self was strongest when she made others hurt. Her satisfaction in herself came from her coldness: towards colleagues and others alike. With diamonds the size of satellites and shoes that cost more than my car, her self-worth came from things and her power came from belittling. It was an environment where cattiness, deceit, and insults ruled.

For months, I tried to make things work, but ultimately, I felt like I was trying to make me work. I was trying to change Brittany for the sake of fitting in, not unlike a less-confident version of my high school self may have done. I hated it. Consistently compared to the girl that came before, I lost my motivation. There was very little reason to excel when all that I had was never enough, and so I stopped. Over time, I stopped trying. At the beginning of the end, I was disengaged, but in time, I had checked out entirely and that is perhaps what hurt me the most. Emotionally, I was entirely exhausted. An outwardly “lazy” version of Brittany had taken over my usually spirited, positive, and hard-working self. Traits that I was once praised for had gone to the wayside as I did my best to tough it out day after day. I had my fight face on, but that was draining.

And so, I recognized that the end was near. I hated myself for not feeling like Brittany. Yes, I was affected largely at work, but I was also impacted at home. My Sundays were spent fighting an almost inescapable feeling of dread as the new work week approached. I was short, impatient, snappy, and exhausted. I had a big choice to make.

After a thinking and stewing and talking and list-making and praying and hoping, it was clear that there was only one thing to do: I had to get out.

I put in my notice and that was that. As quickly as the whole thing began, it was over.

And now it’s time for the after. It’s time for me to be Brittany, to embrace my little Brittany, Bryan, and Allie-the-Dog family. It is time for me to regain my confidence and to pursue all of the things that I have continually said would come “later.” It hit me like a ton of bricks; I am way too young and far too feisty to be beaten down on the daily…by anything or anyone. And especially not for a job.

Stay tuned, friends. The fun is just beginning.

Xoxo

Me