My First Big Decision
Taking My Exit From Engineering
I would come home aggravated everyday from my job in electrical engineering. I had been working with Andrea for at least a year and a half. I sat in the cubicle behind her, and even when I was having conversations with another coworker, she would appear out of nowhere with something to say. I couldn’t get away. Normally, I wouldn’t remember all the reasons I was so irritated, but seven years later, I am blessed to still have emails I sent to myself detailing all of my complaints:
- She never lets you finish a thought before she jumps to conclusions and barks at you until she has regained control.
- She becomes frustrated and insinuates something is my fault when, in actuality, she never communicated her expectations to begin with.
- She is an uptight, micromanager.
- She’s bossy.
When Andrea wasn’t micromanaging she would give me menial tasks like saving documents from a website she “forgot” her credentials for rather than resetting her password and doing it herself. At 7 P.M. when I was ready to leave, she always had something to pester me about and kept me there an extra half hour. By this time, my slow-cooked meal was already done for two hours, I had been at work for nine, and had probably been suppressing my anger since lunch.
- She would fart loudly in her cube several times a day without discretion. Sometimes, I had to do hardware testing in there! She just acted as if nothing happened…no “excuse me” — nothing. Sometimes, I would look over my shoulder just to see if she was quietly chuckling to herself or frozen in embarrassment because then, at least, it would confirm that she knew it happened. She just kept typing, though.
My poor boyfriend had to listen to me complain when I got home. He insisted that I quit; he would say, “You’re not stuck” and “I’ll support you when you leave” — all very nice things. Yet, I felt stuck, and the image of me working in the same cube at thirty years old, haunted me. I imagined I would turn into a mini-Andrea. I would wear the same jeans and collared shirt to work every day, my hair would be down to my butt, and I would have taken up hobbies of hunting, fishing, and playing online role-play games. Andrea would still be in the cubicle behind me, almost sixty, and she would be farting twice as much as she already does. (Also, for the sake of attaining more sympathy, I will divulge that Andrea’s name is not actually Andrea. She shares my name! I get chills thinking about someone calling one of us and both of us popping out of our work spaces accidentally matching for the second day in a row.)
Let me be clear that there is nothing wrong with how Andrea dressed, or did her hair, or any of her hobbies, but that is just not who I am. However, I felt the need to stop dressing and looking as I normally would. I started rotating between about five Calvin Klein polos in different colors and avoided makeup because otherwise, I felt like Andrea would judge me. It would make it obvious that I was too stupid to be an engineer — something I already knew. Besides, Andrea validated this when she told me a story about how she once judged a woman for coming to class with a full face of makeup and her hair done. She didn’t want to work with her at first, but found out that she was actually just coming from acting in a play, and that she was surprisingly really smart; so these two things made it okay that she was wearing makeup. I was far from any kind of genius, so I knew I needed to keep my appearance minimal.
When I got home from work, I drowned my feelings in my own kind of addictions: binge watching television shows, watching YouTube, and eating chocolate until I passed out at 10:30. I often begged Bryan, my partner, for a massage. He was always really good about soothing me. He would usually massage me when I asked, and sometimes, he would really go the extra mile…
One night I was sitting down while he was giving me a massage and suddenly I hear, “MoOoOOoOoaah” in my ear. Of course I laugh — I don’t know what’s going on. Then I hear “ooo ooo ooo ooo” in my other ear. Then, “Meeee-ee-ee-e-eeee.” That was a whale, another whale, and a dolphin.
“What are you doing?” I say.
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“Ocean sounds.”
This might not be normal, but I’m okay with that. Ocean sounds are actually very relaxing, and I am pleased when Bryan whips out his back-up artillery. Ocean sounds got me through many rough days. We would also plant herbs, cook, and be generally goofy. He would often crack a joke when I got home in an effort to help me forget about work. However, it became more difficult to pull me from the dark swamp I felt I was sinking further into each day.
I lost all of my sense of confidence in engineering school and at my first engineering job. I worked so hard to please my father and grandfather who were both engineers that I completely disregarded myself. I couldn’t leave school because I would feel like a failure. And I couldn’t leave work because my dad told me leaving before I was there for two years would look bad on my resume. Really, though, if you are anxious or depressed as I was, then worrying about your image is not worth it. No job is worth that.
On a warm Sunday at Mahoney’s Garden Center with my mom, one year and almost eleven months into my job, I felt physically nauseous, uncomfortable, and utterly hopeless. I simply could not take it anymore: six years of school and work, anxiety and depression, pretending to be someone I am not, or at least trying to be someone I felt I could never actually be. I cried and cried, and told my mom I felt I would rather die than go to work the next day. My dad, somewhat reluctantly, gave me his blessing to do what was best for me. That was enough, and a couple weeks later, I quit.
It has been about seven years since I left that first job. I did many good things for myself during the first year and a half after I quit. I took writing classes, psychology classes, worked at a tea shop, as a substitute teacher, and completed an internship. I went to therapy. I did a lot of the exploring I wasn’t able to do during college. Here are some seemingly obvious things I learned in the years after I left:
- There are many wonderful, smart people that do not work at elite schools, tech companies, or as doctors, lawyers or engineers. Working with people other than engineers after six years was immensely refreshing. It was almost like I forgot all these beautiful varieties of people existed; they are some of the most interesting people I have ever met, and they mean everything to me. They are my assurance that taking the path of widespread approval is just one answer, and it is often not the best one.
- It is not my fault, and not your fault that it is so difficult to develop one’s sense of meaning in today’s world. The distraction of technology does not make it easy to stay mindful or develop intention, and as described in Excellent Sheep by William Deresiewicz, higher education today does not teach students to make the right decisions for themselves over the ones that are considered socially desirable.
- Crying in front of the right people makes things better. Give them the chance to create their own ocean sounds.
- All we can do is keep moving. Learning to notice and understand negative self-talk in therapy really helps.
- There is no one, perfect, ideal career out there for you. Letting go of that expectation has been vital to removing pressure and allowing myself to explore more freely.
- Everyone farts. I just hope I can hold them in as needed until retirement.
I feel people don’t talk enough about how difficult your twenties can be. Sometimes it seems like they will destroy you. Engineering school was akin to being on a fast moving assembly line. There was hardly any time to think, and I let the lies I told myself about what I should be doing go on for so long that I jumped off the conveyor belt not recognizing myself and with a diminished sense of self worth. I wish college taught me how to take the time to reflect on what brings me joy, and more importantly, how to trust myself above anyone else.
After seven years of decision-making practice, I am better at doing, moving, and steering myself. I know that leaving my job was the right choice, my choice — even if it put me in a position of being perceived as not successful or lost. I still have an article that I pulled out of the January 2018 Real Simple magazine called “How to Make a Big Change” by Stacy Kim to remind me that I (and you) can make big decisions and big changes over and over. I highlighted, “Moving a stopped boat requires will and energy. It’s easier to keep moving by rowing small, frequent, and consistent strokes.” She goes on to say, “Don’t underestimate the power of these tiny actions,” which can include going to a yoga class, cooking a nourishing meal, doing something purely for fun, or in my case, sharing one of my own stories. During this big transition, I sometimes felt helpless, smaller than others, or far behind those I graduated with, but I was and still am seeking purpose, taking steps, and learning to trust myself; this is in and of itself a success.
Andrea was only a small frustration magnified tenfold by the negative feelings I felt from being on a path that was not my own. Finding satisfying work can be a long, evolving, sometimes arduous process, but it is worth it. We all have our own standards and level of acceptance in relation to our worklife, but listening to ourselves, unraveling our perceptions about success, and excavating the voice that is authentically our own — matters. And when I don’t know how to listen to myself, I listen…To whale. And dolphin. And ocean sounds. It’s a really great way to relax after a long day at work.
