In the aftermath of the darkest moments of the COVID pandemic, millions of Millennials and elder Gen Zers are simply walking away from their cushy jobs when the frills and perks that once attracted them are no longer a substitute for leadership who actually gives a shit about their employees. Boomers and Gen Xers may claim that this is the type of soft-to-the-core whining of a privileged generation and is a definitive example of the complete lack of grit in the fabric of these digital kids.

Get tough!

Kiss. My. Ass.

More than 11.5 million Americans have left their jobs between April 2021 and right now. My former co-workers and I are among the millions taking part in what is being called “The Great Resignation.” I resigned my position as of yesterday (8/30/2021), and I can cite most of the reasons that Phillip Kane mentioned in his recent Inc.com article as reasons why I left. Mr. Kane wrote a spot-on assessment of this current shift in the workforce, but there’s more to why I decided to ditch a decent salary at a prestigious West Coast college in the dust. I was the last of five employees managed by an incompetent director who was only ever good at directing their staff towards resignation. A pre-pandemic version of myself would have stuck it out at least until I had another job lined up.

What? You quit your job just like that?

Yeah, I left without having something else through which I can earn a paycheck ready in the bullpen. It’s a big risk for a family man to take, but it’s not one that I made spontaneously. I talked to my wife about it and laid out my plan to help her keep the lights on and keep food on the table. It’s nothing glamorous, but it’ll allow me the availability during the day to do the pickup/drop off routine with our son, alleviating the mounting stress we were both feeling as we tried to determine what our best childcare options were for him.

Sounds like you have things figured out, so what’s your problem?

Well, it’s a combination of the uncertainty of what the next few months to year (or more) will look like without my usual safety net of a soul-sucking yet secure office job and the public declaration I made to several of my friends and to a few of my former colleagues that part of the reason why I left that job is to carve out more time and mental energy for writing fiction.

The fuck? You can’t make money from that, can you? A lot of people write, but how many of them are successful?

This is the type of thinking that paralyzed me from taking this leap ten years ago—while I was still teaching; fifteen years ago—before grad school; twenty years ago—back when I was pursuing a degree in creative writing. I’ve been my own worst enemy for decades. How much longer should I keep this shit up? How many more days need to go by, watching other people take a swing at their dreams, feeling the burden of regret weighing me down? Someone else out there knows this struggle all too well. They’ve had their own dreams and talked themselves out of taking the leap because it is terrifying, especially when looking down from the top. Other people had the guts and the drive and the belief in themselves to turn their passions into a career early in their lives, and I tip my cap to them.

Mid-life crisis. What if you fail?

I can live with failure, but I know I won’t be able to handle living another decade without even trying. Reading about millions of other people making a similar change in their professional lives spurred my ass into action. Thank you, Phillip Kane! I’ve talked this up enough. Now, it’s time to put my head down and work until I have a book done. That’s the first step.

Sometimes you have to go backward to be able to move forward.

And sometimes you have to leap off a cliff to save yourself.