I think it’s time to change careers. That old feeling of dread is back. The one where if I have to think about looking at my inbox or opening Slack, I might just toss my laptop into the canal. I’m fresh off two weeks of time off and today is my first day due back at work. I’m writing this after spending my morning “preparing” the apartment. I sprayed this lovely cinnamon and clove spray everywhere to give an energizing vibe, lit candles, popped on a chill playlist, and tossed a bit of obsidian in my pocket, bracing for the deluge.
I’m going to say the thing a person in tech is never supposed to say: I don’t care about tech. I ceased to care some time ago. There was a time when coding for fun and learning new stacks was exciting for me, but that’s no longer the case. I still jump in to help my team when they’re having trouble coding here and there, and I’m still upsettingly good at it, but the passion I had is long gone. This is exactly how I’ve felt each time I’ve broken up with someone, if that makes sense. Whatever we had was great, it’s just not there anymore and I don’t see a future where I’m happy and we’re still together.
The effort I’ve put into this career is insurmountable. I’ve been coding since I was 16. At 33, I’ve now spent over half of my life doing this. I chose web development as my career path largely because it was stable. My other pursuits of being a journalist, actress, or nun didn’t seem wise or feasible when I was young. Plus, I didn’t hate it. I liked the “a-ha” moment that came from hours of me trying to learn how to build something and then suddenly seeing it work. I’ve always been self-taught, and I like it that way.
That leads to a root that I want to dig down into for a moment. I love the learning journey. If I didn’t have to work for a living, I would easily just be in university forever, learning new things. My idea of a perfect work day is me shutting myself into a dark room, undisturbed for hours, devouring knowledge and not emerging until I have made a discovery. When left to my own devices, I can accomplish some pretty impressive things. I miss that feeling.
The question becomes: what do I want to do next? My answer is terrifying: I want to be a healer. I say it’s scary because what does it even mean? I know it doesn’t come with health insurance and a 401K. I’m coming from a place of immense privilege in having a highly stable in-demand career and I recognize how dismissive and selfish it looks to want to walk away from that. My hope is that another young woman will rise up to take my place. Balance in everything, right? Besides, there is so much more I’m good at than attending hours of meetings and sending follow-up reminders.
People have always felt safe with me, and I, in turn, always want to dig deeper. I know I can help people uncover parts of themselves that they’re struggling to find; that wound that doesn’t heal in each of us. I don’t think of myself so much a therapist as I do a mirror. I help people see themselves, sometimes for the first time. With my natural ability to guard myself against being drained by another person’s emotions, I’m practically built for this. I met someone at a party recently and I could sense hurt in her. We somehow started digging into that hurt and I could see the physical change in her that only comes from knowing someone is really seeing and hearing you. I left the interaction invigorated, and I believe she did as well. That didn’t feel like hard work for me.
My other gift is being able to relate to just about anyone. There is no way for me to put myself exactly in someone else’s life, but I am able to demonstrate that I understand where they’re coming from. It’s a beautiful thing, being understood. That’s a connection I think a lot of people are missing in their lives; someone who just gets it. It can be hard to get that from someone you know if they’ve already categorized you and left no room for that idea of who you are to change. With someone new, there isn’t the burden of preconceived notions, only freedom to be whoever you are that day. I like to grant people that freedom, because it’s something I want for myself too.
So, how do I turn that into my “job?” I have no idea. It’s far from a traditional path. I’ve opened myself up to flow in the hopes that I end up where I’m supposed to be. I’m doing the things that make sense. I’m writing every single day. Writing feels like the path forward at the moment. I’m sharing things about myself that I usually wouldn’t and my vulnerability continues to be rewarded, so surely there is something there. Was writing this very thing exactly what I needed to do right now? Opening up about my career crisis and just saying the scary, impossible-seeming thing that I want?
In the spirit of saying the scary, impossible things: I want to be a healer. I want to use my influence to help people see the best in themselves. I want to make my own schedule. I want ample room for joy. I want security and stability. Can I really have it all? I suppose we’ll see.