Q is for Quitting

I'm going to cut right to the chase for today's lesson: If you hate your job, you should quit it.

I've experienced this lesson first hand. I've seen what happens when I stay too long at a job (The Universe forces a change) and I've also seen what it's like to finally quit a job that's been crushing my soul for years.

Now, I know all the reasons you say you can't quit your job. I even know that some of the reasons you stay at a job you hate are legit. But this is where Saturday's post about priorities comes in handy. You can get another job. You might not make as much money or have the same schedule but contrary to popular belief, there are other jobs out there.

I've been told that some of my life lessons are "easier said that done." I'll agree this is another one that falls into that category. But guess what? Life is hard.

I think quitting gets a bad rap. I'm not just talking about jobs. When I retired from roller derby last year, I struggled with the fact that I was quitting. We're conditioned to think that quitting means we're a loser, weak, scared, that it's always a bad thing. The truth is sometimes it's time to quit.

I've done my fair share of quitting. I've quit jobs, hobbies, relationships. It can be difficult to stand up and say "Okay, I'm all done here," but it almost always comes with a rush of relief. Getting that proverbial weight off my chest in knowing that I'm doing the right thing.

I'm not saying quit anything at the first inkling of discomfort. I played derby for over two years and I can't even count how many times I thought of quitting before I finally did. The same with my soul sucking job. The older I get, the shorter that time frame gets where I'll tolerate feeling bad. But it's still exists. I'll wait it out to make sure quitting definitely feels right.

Our society floods us with motivational posters telling us to never give up, never quit, keep going, etc. And yes, there's a time and place for pushing yourself and persevering. Maybe at the gym but not in a work place.

N is for No

I was raised to be accommodating. If someone asks you to do something, you do it. If you commit to something, you follow through. Putting oneself first is viewed as selfish. As I got older, the world reinforced these tendencies in me. People who recognized my tendency to put others before myself took full advantage of me. 

Any time I was asked to cover an extra shift at work, I'd do it. If a boyfriend disregarded my interests, I'd let it happen. I took on other's demands and expectations without much thought about how they affected me. I just wanted everyone to be happy and like me. 

By the time I reached my thirties, I was exhausted and resentful. 

When I started seeing my life coach, one of the first things she said to me was it seemed like I had too many burners going on the stove and needed to choose one to turn off. What? No way! Work, home, partner, hobbies, family, pets. How could any of those be turned off? My coach helped me see that there wasn't a burner labeled as self. Because I wasn't putting any energy into treating myself well, I was doing a lousy job of maintaining all those other hot burners. 

One of the most important skills I've learned as an adult is how to set boundaries. It can be uncomfortable at first, if you aren't used to doing it. Even now, I occasionally struggle with feeling guilt, as if I'm letting others down by speaking up for myself. But actually I'm doing us both a favor!

Boundaries aren't always fun!

Learning that it's okay to say no was a HUGE life lesson for me. Sometimes people in my life don't understand. They aren't used to hearing "no" and don't say it often themselves. Sitting down with a boss or a boyfriend and saying "This isn't working for me" takes a lot of guts. Trust me, I've done both and it sucked. It's a big step, to recognize when it's time to say no and when the response is negative or the person lashes out, it can make a tough situation even worse. 

Fearing another's response to no isn't a reason to accommodate him/her. In fact, you're doing each other a huge disservice if you don't speak up. You can trust me on this one too because I've been there as well! 

I like to use the example of airplane emergency procedures when it comes to self care: Secure your own oxygen mask before you begin to assist others with theirs. 

Taking care of myself first doesn't mean I'm selfish. It means I value myself and my loved ones enough to know when I'm on the verge of becoming overextended. I was spread thin for far too long and that me isn't nearly as healthy and positive as the me that takes time our for herself!

If you're feeling pulled in too many different directions, I challenge you to say no to something. Say it nicely and with kindness but say it. I promise you will be glad you did!

Bison without boundaries in Gardiner, MT

Does It Matter What You Call It?

I knew I was going to leave roller derby the day I got injured. The moment I was injured, in fact. I recall quite clearly, stopping on the track (which is a no no), holding my hands to what I thought was my broken nose and having a feeling of finality wash over me, a voice that said "All done". I probably could have walked off the track at that exact moment and been satisfied. But that wouldn't be fair to my teammates or to myself. I  put over two years of my life into this sport, literal blood, sweat and tears. I can't just quit, right?  I've spent the last few weeks recovering and thinking about a potential future with derby, but I came to the conclusion that there isn't one for me.

Taken just seconds before the hit that caused my concussion

Friends have asked me how I made the decision but I didn't make a decision as much as it simply became clear to me. This is a time for transition for me. I've gotten a message from The Universe that I need to slow down and re-evaluate my priorities.

But just because the conclusion was clear cut for me didn't mean it was easy to follow through. I went to my life coach for guidance, "I know what I need to do, I just don't know how to go about doing it". I wrote about it, meditated about it and talked about it with my loved ones. I packed away all my gear and derby clothes, just to see what it felt like.

I'm not quitting, I'm retiring. I keep telling myself that, but does it make a difference? I turned to my dictionary for clarification:
          Quit: to stop doing something, to give up, to resign from, to stop trying, to go away from
          Retire: to give up one's work, to remove from a position or office, to go where it is quieter, to retreat from battle

Well, all of those sound accurate to me! Why is there such a negative connotation with quitting? I battled in that sport for two years and now I'm done. Sure there are women who play for a lot longer but I've known many who played for a shorter amount of time. That doesn't make any of us wrong.

I'm four weeks out from my concussion and I'm still not back to my old self. I'm driving and working and (knock on wood) this past weekend was my first one in a month that didn't include me getting injured or terribly ill. I even worked out on the elliptical yesterday for 15 minutes straight! I'm definitely making progress. But my memory sucks and I have a headache at some point every day. Externally I look like I've healed but I still don't feel like myself. I feel slow and foggy which is the opposite of me at my best. It's frustrating and depressing. But when I push myself (like trying to paint the living room or help my sister in law move), I get sick and I backslide three steps.

The words of wisdom from my life coach were: surrender to what is. I like the sound of that-very Zen. But how do I actually do that? I'm still figuring it out. For now it means eliminating as many distractions and obligations as possible and the biggest one was roller derby. I can't commit to calling my mom every Monday or showing up someplace at a specific time. I'm trying to change my thinking from "This isn't me" to "This is me now". I'm trying to read, rest, watch movies and just be who I am right now. Hopefully I won't be this me forever and I think I'll appreciate that I was kind to myself during this phase.

I always have faith that everything will work out. Sometimes it's just tough getting through that middle part. But for now this middle part is all I've got.

Resting on the couch with my dogs