A Tale of Two Sabbaticals: Money vs Meaning
When I quit, I quickly realized there were actually two sabbaticals waiting for me - one that focused on what’s next and one that focused on what’s right now. One continued my lifelong drive for productivity and proving myself to others; the other eschewed all of that and let me find myself.
When I still had my job, the only thing I could think about, other than how long my savings would sustain me and my kids, was “I cannot wait to rest. To sleep. To stop and smell the flowers. And to write.” Like many, my whole life since the age of 18 has been about maxing productivity. How much can I do in a day? How many boxes can I check?
At the time, rest meant laziness. I was always going. Twice in my life, I’ve worked two jobs, once to make ends meet, and once to pay off grad school.
I changed careers chasing recognition, wanting others to validate the value I knew I had to offer. I wanted my title and income to reflect my internal worth - to finally match the value I knew I had inside. And eventually, they did. I made good money, had a decent title, and respect from my co-workers.
But it wasn’t long after I had that, the burnout started. It became too much and, after much deliberation, I quit, seeking rest and restoration. What I longed for when I had my job was time to read, to write, to be healthy and move my body, to experiment - to move at a slower pace. Doing those things feels in alignment with my nature, though they don’t, on the surface, earn money.
This may not be true for some, but for me, I’m surprised how hard it is to ‘sabbat’. I am a single mother with two kids in elementary school, so my sabbatical looks less like travel and more like quiet days at home, with eight hours each day to rest and restore. But I found myself almost immediately falling into the same routines, sitting at my desk, spending my time trying to sort out what my future might be. I slipped easily back into hustling, chasing online streams and adding pressure to myself to make it work.
I worked because it felt secure, it lessened my fear of the unknown road ahead, and I chased ideas that I thought would make others respect my decisions. Some subconscious voice was there telling me, “Unless it looks like a LinkedIn success story, it’s not valid.”
I was productive, but also anxious and disconnected from the reason I quit.
I decided, in my many days of generating ideas of what I could do, the next step seemed to be starting a business in back-office automations for small to medium businesses. It fit neatly with my skills and experience. This felt like a legitimate business idea. But the more I got into what I’d need to do and what it would take, the more I realized I’d end up right where I left; hustling for validation and proving my worth to my former co-workers and anyone else I thought might judge me.
I had a conversation with a potential advisor and after I hung up, I realized that while I could, and there was real income potential, I didn’t want to. My whole body was screaming no.
I had to make a choice, take the sabbatical that makes money, or the one that makes me.
If this sabbatical didn’t include things I actually like, instead of just things I thought could make money, I’d feel like I wasted it. The whole point was to find myself and finally follow what I like. I want work that doesn’t eat away at my soul. Time and autonomy > prestige. And the truth is, my kids need a mother who’s alive to herself more than they need me to chase LinkedIn respectability.
I choose me. This post is proof of that. I have always wanted to write. I don’t know if anyone is reading this, and I’m okay if not. Even if I ‘fail’, I win. Because I chose myself.
