when to choose change

the story of why i quit my job

when the game of life got too real

I used to not like to write about my full-time job (product management at a fintech). I still see corporate olivia as a sort of cosplay, a temporary role which the more I play, the less real my personhood actually feels. This is ironic because arguably I’ve been working my whole life towards something pretty close to corporate olivia.

I’ve found that I’m not alone in this sentiment. Many of my friends from Penn, some of the smartest high-achievers I know, speak dispassionately about their jobs as if it’s an extension of themselves they are forced to accept. Admittedly, most of these friends fall into one of three categories: software engineers, consultants, or bankers. We all had the privilege to choose but the pressure to choose only between a few “prestigious” career paths, because how could we possibly live up to our high-achieving, privileged selves as broke, struggling artists or some other unconventional identity at an unheard-of company?

While I’m not alone in this sentiment, I have felt alone in the desire to actually leave my job. Quitting was always associated with the mark of failure, so my standard set of explanations - “I hate that I don’t love it”, “my soul is getting sucked”, and “I feel like I’m bull-shitting every day” - were apparently difficult to actually understand, evident in how many times I had to remind my friends why exactly did I want to quit again?

This letter started as just a reflection about resigning and the (rather uncomfy) experience of actually telling my team I was leaving, but it turned into more of a breakdown of the past year into the definitive experiences which have shaped my recent worldview and perhaps gives context to the how and why we got here.

This is not an encouragement for you all to go and quit your corporate jobs because inevitably, there are many variances in priorities (eg. job stability vs personal fulfillment) and practical considerations (eg. can you financially manage without?) that would make the right decision different for everyone. In my case, I’m lucky to have pretty confidently discovered things I’m passionate about in the past few years - alternate realities which amplified the discontent I had with my current one. And, I got pretty close on finalizing a few short-term job prospects which made me more comfortable quitting. However, this is an encouragement, with my story as a backdrop, to at least choose change when things don’t feel right; to know that the whole world is out there for you to love if you just make space for it.

spring <3

01 working at a cafe

Many of you who have been reading my newsletters know about my stint as a part-time barista last year. Not to be dramatic, but this was… life-changing. At the cafe, I developed a love for coffee and the connotations it comes with - the daily, patient process implied and the common ground it establishes between a diverse blend of people, all balanced among subtle aromatics and aftertastes. I learned what it was like to develop a skill which supplied a multi-sensory experience - one that was small, but built from scratch with care and creativity - and I felt that this was a very special feeling.

One of the best things about having a cafe as your third place is that it’s an excellent location to intersect lives with people you’d otherwise never talk to. I met photographers, teachers, illustrators, investors, shoe designers, sound engineers, and other categories of identities that did not previously exist among my social circles. People who had pivoted careers, people who started their own businesses, people who never went to school, people who went back to school, people who were still figuring it out too. It was both eye-opening and reassuring to see so many individuals living out very individual lives.

While I was getting exactly the exposure and experience I wanted to gain as a barista, I was also exhausted for much of this period. I journaled in the summer of last year:

[There are days when i am so exhausted it hurts. This weekend was a prime example. I worked cafe fri 6pm-3am, sat 12-8:30pm, went to look at two houses and stopped by j’s place on sunday before coming home and going to the ed sheeran concert. Right before the concert I debated flaking because I don’t even like ed sheeran that much and I was just so drained, I was concerned I would pass out if I had to stand and rally on the floor of madison square garden for the whole night. I still went of course, because I wanted to see my friends and I had already paid for tickets, and it turned out fine, but it felt wrong to be that tired.]

Evidently, I was struggling to juggle my job, barista responsibilities, a social life, passion projects, and maintaining physical and mental health. There were a few weeks when I kept thinking about how this was unsustainable and something had to go, but after extensive consideration, the only thing I could imagine letting go of was my full-time job, which was unfortunate because I also knew that would not be easy to justify letting go of.

recent celebrations 01: whimsical reunions (see addendum)

02 creator camp

Then in october of last year, I went to creator camp. This week in the forests of bend, oregon with forty creatives was impactful in the way it surrounded me with so many dreamers and gave me faith in myself I didn’t have before.

I joke that I swindled my way into this camp and this community, because quite frankly I did not feel qualified to be considered a “creator”, and I am not “famous” or an “influencer” by any means. I was just a hobby enthusiast, and sure, I was “creating” art in my inconsistent free time, but still it was done in practical, conventional, constrained ways, and I’ve always thought art is meant to be anything but constrained. So at camp I was an outlier - a normie among real lovers making a beautiful, special life for themselves out of art.

There was one night my illustrator-roomie K and I discovered we had the same entry in our childhood diary where we both wrote in juvenile handwriting “when I grow up, I want to be an artist”; it was a consequential moment of connection, except K was living that aspiration out already, and I was… not quite. Interestingly, the imposter syndrome I felt at camp was motivation enough for me to want to try harder to be like the people I met there, not necessarily in the “I want to be a full-time content creator” kind of way, but in the “I also want to be unconditionally true to myself” kinda way.

It’s worth noting that as much as the people I met were dreamers, everyone faced very real challenges and recognized that the path they chose was not all sparkles and shiny objects. What was distinguishing however, was that in spite of the challenges, sacrifices, and risks, they were all brave enough to go after their dreams, no matter how unconventional or ambitious they were.

“I feel the pureness of your heart and know that it’s leading you on the exact path it’s meant to”. - JR’s letter at the end of camp.

Thus creator camp planted a seed in my little pea-head brain that made me believe perhaps there is a future out there where I need not force myself to be someone I do not want to be.

recent celebrations 02: birthday bashes & worlds colliding

03 communities in NYC

The last influence I must give credit to is simply living in new york city and the communities I’ve found here. Moving to the city two years ago initially felt like throwing myself into a moshpit with the unbounded possibility of ending up nauseous in one big social blender. But luckily, I’m convinced now that I have stumbled into some of the loveliest corners of the city. One example is olive tree writing club (weekly writing sessions hosted at verci in soho) where I met A and K who reminded me that “I like the way you think” is one of the greatest and rarest compliments to give and receive.

There are many other similar spaces in the city - people gathering other people together to show and tell art and stories, go down rabbit holes, (re)connect with community and culture, and just share music and hang out. These groups showed me how others are living life intensely too, in the best way possible.

I have had several other serendipitous encounters with people in the city whose thoughts I resonated deeply with, and who understood me and my appetite for risk and discovery. Like C, who I met earlier this year during exceptionally transitionary periods for both of us. Our backgrounds are similar in almost every way, and we converged on a shared interest in coffee. She recently became a barista, and I recently was one too; she recently quit her corporate tech job (after an extended leave), and I was thinking about quitting mine. Our friendship felt fated as some sort of synchronicity at play, or at least evidence of the buildup of many small actions and inclinations (“manifestations”) which eventually coincided.

Timing can define whether a place is a catalyst environment or not. I think new york city is a wonderful place to become who you want to be. It’s volatile, charged and sometimes uncomfortable, but when the momentum is flowing in energizing ways, it’s telling you to follow that feeling of inevitability.

recent celebrations 03: new auspicious aesthetics

expelling indifference

The point is eventually, I realized that I am feeling at home in this city and pouring my soul into ten different side quests and I am in love with all my friends, but i am NOT in love with my job. Halfhearted investments become intolerable when you learn what it’s like to want and do something wholeheartedly. But something being okay can be worse than it being awful because it augments the stickiness of decision inertia and makes you believe that there’s no urgent need to look for something better.

It took me almost 9 months to actually take action. There are plenty of reasonable excuses I could give as to why it took that long (eg. holidays, travels, hiring freezes, pushback from friends & family, etc.), but it all goes back to the tendency to rely on entrenched mental models, the ones that told me I had nothing really to complain about - my colleagues were nice, my work life balance was truly balanced, I had ownership in a new innovative consumer-facing product, was paid well, so what more could I ask for? Change is something we simply need to learn to react to, so why do you constantly feel the need to go out of your way to seek it out?

Admittedly, It was difficult to pinpoint the tangible root of the problem - was it the specific team, the type of work, the industry, or just the nature of corporate America? What type of alternate option would even be better? And there were always reasons to stay (eg. product about to launch, incoming promotion, etc.) so despite how adamant I’d been about wanting to leave, it’s true - at the actual act of quitting, there was still a sliver of doubt if this really was the right choice for me.

But I think the worst regrets come from entertaining ambivalence. This applies not just for career choices, but also in friendships and relationships and any other important investments of time - if it’s just a “maybe” or “sure”, and not an absolute yes, then I don’t want it. I don’t know if the choices I make now will pay off in the future, but I do know I was not having a good time in my existing job situation. And if the existing situation will stay existing until I choose change, then perhaps what it takes is to bet on that uncertainty.

recent celebrations 04: last day in office

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More ounces:

• this one was a long one so if you made it this far here’s a cool album i’ve had on repeat

• for my fellow nyc residents, 2 recs:

  • Nonsensenyc for weekly fun, absurd nyc events

  • If you don’t already, heres an epic guide to loving nyc. I particularly like the section “The secret teachings: NYC vibe-immersion walking meditations”. Excerpt below

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[addendum] returning to a renaissance

On Saturday night, I went back to the cafe to visit and to return the keys I’ve been unintentionally holding onto. It was my first time back since I left in december. They just did a remodeling of the entire space for a new layout that will hopefully alleviate a lot of the challenges voiced all through last year. The store was closed for almost a week for the renovations, and H said he didn’t leave the cafe for 4 days last week in order to fully scrub down every crevice and reorganize everything. Clearly, big moves were made to start anew.

The redesign meant that while I knew the walls, the menus, and the stocklist I made all too well, I could no longer pinpoint where things were, and I mistook a new bartender as a customer. When H stepped out for a bit, I impromptu manned the coffee section, fumbling to locate the cups and lids for a few late-night latte orders. Later, N and T dropped in; we sat at the bar and had a fine dining experience of hennessy (N brought) in teacups and egg tarts (I brought), heated with the culinary torch. It was an experience reminiscent of all the nights I spent here partaking in similarly whimsical food, drink, and conversation combinations. I told T about how since being back in the city, I was starting new jobs and taking guitar lessons again and he remarked, “you came back to a renaissance”, which had a nice ring to it.

On the way home, I realized I had forgotten about the keys - still they hung heavy on my keychain. I did not feel too sorry because H had never actually asked for them back, and perhaps some ties are better to keep amidst all this transformation.