Honey, grab your fan and a can of Gay Water, because we need to have a serious heart-to-heart about the absolute audacity of most employers these days.
The "I Said What I Said" Manifesto
Normalize quitting a toxic job with the same energy we use to block a mediocre Grindr date. Today, I officially handed in my two-week notice, and honestly? The air already feels lighter and more sparkly. I put six months of literal blood, sweat, and tears into a role where the boss resembled the villain from Problemista. Jesus Christ that movie gave me PTSD, but I digress. I was serving looks and results, only to be told my work was "terrible" and—get this— to “fuck off."
I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror, and said, "No, ma’am." I am not participating in this community theater production of Misery. I am too seasoned, too talented, and frankly, too fabulous to be spoken to like a someone who isn’t as seasoned. So, I quit. And just like that... (I promised I’d stop with the Sex and the City references, but Carrie Bradshaw didn't wear a bird on her head for me to be treated like a pigeon).
Unpacking the Trauma (And the Bad Lighting)
Why are we so terrified of making the leap? Why do these employers think they have a 24-hour lease on our souls? It’s time to unpack the baggage.
Back in elementary school, they fed us this "you’re special" narrative like it was a free brunch. My school literally had a theme song, I fuck you not, about being "bright and the best." It was giving "participation trophy" without the actual trophy. But little me ate it up! I was staying up until 3:00 AM making sure my science projects were next level. I wanted the kids and the teachers to GAG at my font choices and color palettes on that corrugated cardboard. I was serving graphic design realness at age eleven, okay?
But that drive creates a monster. You start climbing the corporate ladder at eleven... for fuck sake. You reach a high rung, and suddenly you’re paralyzed. You look down and think, "If I fall, my highlights will never recover." Plus, the view from the top looks chic from a distance.
The reality check? Once you get to the top of that specific ladder, it’s a mess. It’s giving "abandoned warehouse," it's giving "mo' money, mo' problems," it's giving "racist realness." There are spider webs, janky electrical wiring, and enough dust to trigger an asthma attack. Why are we convincing ourselves that this dumpster fire is "success"?
Know Your Worth, Find Your Next Ladder
Here is the tea, and it’s piping hot: You aren't getting any younger, and there isn't just one ladder in the room. There is another ladder right next to you on the floor, just waiting for you to set it up and climb. And guess what? There’s another one after that. And another. We are talking a whole inventory of ladders, darling!
Let’s make it real simple for the people in the back:
- Abundance Mindset: There are plenty of jobs out there that will actually appreciate the fantasy you’re providing.
- The Respect Package: Respect isn't a "pick and choose" menu. You don't just get "respect for your time" but "disrespect for your voice." We want the whole combo meal or nothing at all.
- The Wisdom Glow-Up: As you get older and wiser, your "BS Detector" gets sharper. You start noticing disrespect faster than a queen spots a lace front lifting in the front row.
There is zero shame in walking away to make yourself SHINE. Take it from someone who has resigned from every single gig the moment the learning stopped and the vibes went rancid: there is always a better stage waiting for you.
So, the only question left is... are you ready to jump, or are you going to stay in that dusty attic? 💅✨