Choosing 'Me' Before 'We'
Here’s the thing about the day when you officially decide that you have to change your life: you don’t even see it coming. When that day arrived for me, it was an ordinary, cold Friday Nairobi morning that started like any other. I got up that morning, hating the sound of my alarm clock. I got dressed, hating the feel of the stiff, button-down shirt and tailored pants to match. I walked to the stage and got into a Matatu, hating the commute that was ahead of me. I put my purse in my office and left almost immediately to do my morning rounds being that I was a Human Resource Manager in charge of a staff of over a hundred people. There was only one thing that I was looking forward to: the end of my workday. I could finally go home and not think about work for two whole days.
Later that afternoon, sitting in a meeting while two of my colleagues debated whether we should all spend part of the coming work week outlining plans and policies for a new project, my mind wandered, and that’s when the truth asserted itself: I don’t want to do this, anymore.
I have always been the kind of person who prefers to push myself further and further over complaining and seeming ungrateful, but this time it was different. I have had very few moments in my life that would qualify as “earth shattering,” and this was one of them. With that thought, I felt dizzy in my chair as I recognized how very real this truth was, even as much as it surprised me.
I didn’t want to do this, anymore.
Since when? I didn't know. I had seriously hustled for months to prove myself to my colleagues, and hustled every paycheck down to its last dime to start a side hustle and buy those stiff suits. I had told myself and everyone else so many times that this lifestyle was what I wanted. There I was, lucky enough to be the woman who got what she had worked for, the management position with the corner glass wall office facing a beautiful rose garden. My entire overachieving life had lead me here. And now, after all that work, I was thinking the one thing that made no sense to think: I don’t want to do this, anymore!
This truth was an inconvenient fact that followed me throughout even if I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to do this, anymore. I didn’t want the job or the suits, even if they came with a fair amount of admiration and respectability. I didn’t want to spend my free time out lining a new policies and projects, all so that I could impress colleagues who mostly bickered with one another and set up power plays. I didn’t want this to still be my life a year from now and the year after that.
While others were plotting their way up the corporate ladder, I was plotting my path out.
It’s safe to say that we have all been there—that place where you know that something in your job, relationship, or life in general is definitely not working, but you don’t know what the alternative would be. When I realized that the lifestyle I had hustled so hard for wasn’t a reflection of who I really was, it also dawned on me that I didn’t know what to replace it with. I didn’t really know who I was or know what I truly wanted. More than anything, I felt afraid to make a step in any direction, because I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to make sound decisions. After all, wasn’t I the one who’d made all the choices that had landed me in this position? When I was making decision after decision about my life up to that point, I’d been convinced that I was moving in the direction of what I wanted, only to discover that it was anything but.
I had felt the call to change my life for a while, and I had been pushing that truth away for a long time because that call always came with a healthy dose of fear and uncertainty. I had responded to my fear by doing whatever I could to make it go away. I would buy red wine on my way home, and sit in bed with my laptop, working ever harder to distract myself from my feelings that something just wasn’t right. I focused on taking on extra work, so that I would gain external validation from bosses and colleagues. But, behind the scenes, I was losing it. I regularly had headaches, insomnia, body aches, and the kind of exhaustion that didn't go away even after a long night's sleep. My moods frequently alternated between irritated or depressed, which I hid behind smiles, nods, and reassurances that everything was fine.
To make myself feel better, I got little highs off being perceived as successful by most of the people I knew, and the praise that came from colleagues who remarked upon how hard I worked. The problem was, the highs were harder to come by and didn’t last for as long, and the distractions were no longer as effective at masking how I truly felt inside.
The truth—I don’t want to do this, anymore—had become too hard to ignore.
When I took leave, I spent the break wavering between hiding out in a haze of Korean and Turkish Dramas and what I call “desperate journaling.” (You know, the kind of journaling where you keep trying to answer the rather intimidating question, “If you had a million dollars and all the time in the world, what would you do with your life?”) Somewhere between journal prompts and the dramas, I identified the uncomfortable sensation in my body, and realized with some surprise: That feeling is fear. I knew things needed to change, but I was completely afraid of actually changing them. I was so used to hustling to make sure that I appeared confident and put-together to the outside world that I hadn’t realized how fear was calling the shots in every area of my life. I was the poster child for hyper-independence, people pleasing and looking courageous on the outside, while perpetually feeling like I wasn’t good enough on the inside. I could no longer ignore the fact that this way of living wasn’t working.
As I tuned in to what I was feeling instead of pushing it away, I noticed that deep down I was afraid of…everything. It wasn’t just about the job. Sure, I was afraid of being unhappy if I stayed and was intimidated by the thought of switching careers, but this ran deeper. I was afraid that I would never figure out who I was or what I wanted.
Since none of my friends, family, or colleagues had ever talked about feeling the same confusion I was experiencing, I thought that I was in it alone. I was afraid of being judged if I started talking about what felt true or if I made choices that were different than what others expected. Lacking a plan, I did what felt necessary in that moment. Instead of pushing away the fear, I did something I had never done before: I quit.
Tomorrow, November 8th, marks the anniversary of the moment I got a fresh start after acknowledging that the fear existed and how it had controlled me without my realizing it. For several months thereafter, I remember thinking, turning the idea over and over. At first, I thought that simply “putting my mind to it” and deciding to face my fear would be enough. All I needed to do was tell my self-doubt to take a hike, and then I could start living the life of my dreams, right? But the months that followed brought near constant stops and starts as the old patterns didn’t go away so easily. I was constantly taking one step forward and then one step back.
There were weeks when I would find the courage within myself to pursue my passion and speak up on my healing journey, even if my opinions was unpopular. Or I would skip socializing to stay home in favor of writing for my blog, another thing I had abandoned around the time that I started trying to climb a corporate ladder. Then, there were other weeks, when I found myself feeling more insecure and uncertain about where my future was headed. During those weeks, I was often embarrassed to been seen trying something new and just as often, I was humiliated by people who turned their nose up on creatives like myself. I caught myself oversharing and over-explaining myself, just to get a little hit of their understanding or approval. But it almost always never worked. I even berated myself for being so confused, for not having immediate answers or immediate results. I didn’t understand how I could know so deeply that something needed to be different, yet find this path of change so difficult. And lonely. This wasn’t how it happened in the movies, or in any inspirational book I had ever read.
The problem was that I was trying to cling to some sense of safety and control by immediately mapping out a new plan to replace my old one. I wanted to both “dream big” and “be realistic” at the same time, which wasn’t getting me anywhere. It was time to go beyond clinging to some sense of control by mapping things out in advance. Whatever plan came next for my life, it had to first be founded in who I really was and what I truly wanted, and that meant asking the harder questions of deep self-inquiry.
We’ve all felt the push and pull of this space. We want radical change, but we also want practical plans. We can have both of those things, just not at the same time, and that’s why beginning with discovering who you truly are and what you truly want is so important for any process of change. We need to ask the questions that require us to take an honest look at ourselves and our lives: Who am I, really? What do I really want? What does a happy life look like for me? How will I make who I truly am on the inside be how I live on the outside
Today, in hindsight, I can speak more clearly to what I was coming to understand during that pivotal time of searching and uncertainty.
☘️ First, discontent and unhappiness are signals worth listening to. There’s an authentic part of all of us that refuses to be a liar and pretend that things are okay even when they really are not. This part of us will keep showing up through feelings like exhaustion, resentment, numbing out, or joylessness. Not feeling great about your life? Stop seeing those feelings as problems to quickly be rid of, and instead pay attention to why those feelings are showing up in the first place.
☘️ Second, our desires are valid. What we want for our lives matters, whether the things we want are simplistic or audacious. Our personal ambitions aren’t selfish, and often, we only have a capacity for truly giving to or supporting others when our own inner well is full. Our desires are worthy of our attention and deserve to be a primary focus in our lives.
☘️ Third, going after what we desire will always involve some sort of fear or self-doubt. There is no way around that. There is no one who is perfectly “fearless.” This person doesn’t exist. Going after what you truly want will require coming back, again and again, to owning and understanding your fears. We can’t just brush the fear to the side and make a to-do list. We have got to examine our fear responses, and work with and through those responses.
☘️ Don’t make the mistake of comparing someone else’s external life to your internal life. Each person’s life appears coherent and certain from the outside and feels incoherent and uncertain on the inside. Also, don’t make the mistake of assuming somebody doesn’t have a messy and uncertain internal life. We all do.
☘️ Finally, change isn’t as simple as “deciding that things will be different.” We all have patterned, habit-driven aspects to the ways we think and how we act. If we want to make bold, courageous life changes, we need to also understand how our habitual ways of being are either supporting or stopping us from change. Our ingrained habits influence the actions that we do or don’t take.
Now with more awareness of self, the situation and my dreams and aspirations, I have another realization: I had a choice. I could have gone back to pushing away the fear, which would keep me exactly where I had been, or I could start dealing with my fears differently, in ways that required courage but that resulted in the authentic happiness that I now enjoy, three years later.
Life was ticking by, and I wanted and needed to experience more before it was too late. I wanted to achieve my dreams. My desire has always been to help others, and I was so enthralled and excited about my own therapy and coaching experience and knew how effective and right it was that I wanted to help others this way, too. Of course, it wasn’t only the desire to switch careers that motivated this change. I wanted to work my own hours when it suited me, be my own boss—accountable to nobody else with all the freedom that entails—and I wanted to continue to earn good money. I wanted to earn my living doing something I loved. Well, doesn’t everybody? Do we really want to get out of bed early in the morning and go and do something we hate and spend all day, and then some, doing it? I was, and still am, happier than a pig in mud! But I must tell you, I’m not naturally brave, yet look at what I have achieved! You can do it, too!
Are You Ready to Change?
Deciding to change is not a simple matter. You may have entertained some of these thoughts when you contemplated making a change in your life:
I don’t know if I want to rock the boat.
Things aren’t all that bad in my life.
I’m fairly secure, and I don’t want to take the chance of losing this security.
I’m afraid that if I start to think too much I might overwhelm myself.
It is common to have doubts and fears about making changes. In fact, it is a mark of courage to acknowledge your hesitations to change and your anxiety over accepting greater responsibility for your life. It is no easy matter to take an honest look at your life. Those who are close to you may not approve of or like your changes. They may put up barriers to your efforts. Your cultural background may make it more difficult for you to assume a new role and to modify certain values if you choose to do so. These factors can increase your anxiety as you contemplate making your own choices rather than allowing others to choose for you. What is the best way to bring about change? The process of change begins when you are able to recognize and accept certain facets of yourself, even though you may not want to acknowledge some personal characteristic. Sometimes it is not possible to make a desired change, but even in these cases you have power over your attitude. You can choose how you perceive, interpret, and react to your situation.
The Serenity Prayer* outlines the sphere of our responsibility:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.
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