In 2005 I was in a dark place. I felt drained by my work and hopeless thinking that this is what I would be doing for the next 40 years.
So I left.
I put in my two weeks’ notice, bid farewell to my colleagues (who were great, by the way), and left.
That moment was huge. Crazy, but huge. It was huge because it catalyzed the rest of my career. I wouldn’t be where I am today without that moment.
Crazy because I didn’t have a path. I had no idea where I was headed. In fact, when I quit my job I told everyone I was leaving to go to grad school in Utah and pursue a degree in Spanish. Truth is, I had no desire to do that. Like, I have no idea where that even came from.
But that plan wasn’t for me, it was for them. Most people have very little appetite for risk, lack of structure, or straight up career rebellion. I had to tell them something, and “I’m leaving because I don’t like it and I don’t know what I’m going to do next” would have been socially unacceptable and elicited too many questions.
In hindsight I was blissfully naive and simply believed in my ability to support my family one way or another, even if it meant taking a low-paying customer service job at Overstock.com — which it did.
The more I learn about doing what you love the more I realize that these moments are a big part of it. Some are more dramatic than others, but every move that has landed me closer to congruence in my career has been just like that. Big. Scary. Nebulous. Full of doubt, mostly of the self-doubt variety.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hi! I'm Dustin.
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