Yesterday I wrote a blog in third person. It felt easier to tell the story that way, a little more removed, a little less vulnerable. But the truth is, that story was mine.
For a long time, I’ve lived in a way where I made sure everyone around me was comfortable, even if it meant I wasn’t. I wouldn’t call myself a people pleaser, but I can recognize now that I didn’t say no when I should have. I overextended myself, especially at work, giving time and energy that should have gone to me and my family. I showed up, I pushed through, and I carried more than I should have, because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do.
At 45, I can finally admit something I’ve never really said out loud before, I’m tired.
Back on December 26, I made a commitment to myself to start living with intention. I wanted to complain less and be more appreciative of what I have. And I did that. I focused on gratitude, on shifting my mindset, on being present. But what I started to realize is that gratitude doesn’t mean ignoring what’s draining you.
Yes, I’m grateful I have a job. I’m grateful I can pay my bills. But the reality is, it came at the cost of my mental health. I was in a role where I could never fully exhale. Every day felt like putting out fires, and not the kind that just happen, but the kind that felt constant, repetitive, and preventable. It was exhausting.
The idea of “unlimited PTO” sounds great in theory, but in practice, it wasn’t real time off. I never truly disconnected. Even when I stepped away, I knew I’d come back to more work than I left, because no one else knew how to do what I did. There was no coverage, no backup. So time off just meant delaying the inevitable and coming back to double or triple the workload, plus whatever new issues came up in the meantime. It felt like constantly treading water, like trying to move forward while stuck in mud.
And just when I thought I might get a moment to breathe, another major implementation was planned, right in the middle of summer. My son’s last summer before his senior year, a time I’ll never get back. And I already knew what that would look like for me. Long hours, constant pressure, being pulled into something all-consuming with no real support. The thought of missing that time with him weighed on me more than I can explain.
That’s when it became harder to sit in gratitude, because I realized that in order to stay “positive,” I was asking myself to ignore chaos that was actively draining me.
Around that same time, an opportunity came up. It checked every box I’ve ever written about. It’s close to home, the commute alone will give me back hours of my life every day. But more importantly, it’s meaningful. I’ll be working in an environment where I’m supporting people who are saving lives. After years of building processes from scratch, cleaning up messes, and operating in constant reaction mode, I now get to contribute to something that already has structure, something I can build on rather than constantly repair.
And the biggest difference, I already feel valued, and I haven’t even started yet.
That feeling made me reflect on something else. In 20 years, I’ve never really given myself a break between roles. I’ve gone from one position straight into the next, always in high-demand, high-pressure environments. I’ve never stopped long enough to reset.
So this time, I’m doing something different.
I made the decision that today will be my last day.
Not out of anger, even though there are parts of this experience that hurt. Not out of spite. But from a place of clarity and self-awareness. I needed to be sure that this decision came from choosing myself, not reacting emotionally.
I will do what I’ve always done, I will make sure things are as organized as possible. I’ll finalize what I can, document what’s needed, and support the transition in every way I’m able to. That’s who I am, and that doesn’t change.
But when I log off today, I’m done.
I’m going to go home, exhale, and give myself something I haven’t had in a long time, space.
This next week isn’t about doing nothing. It’s about doing things that fill me. Maybe I’ll paint a bathroom, maybe I’ll deep clean my house, maybe I’ll take my dogs to the park or spend time by the water. Whatever I choose, it will be intentional, and it will be for me.
What I’ve come to understand through all of this is that we spend so much time pouring into everyone else that we forget it’s our responsibility to pour into ourselves. And then we feel empty and wonder why.
I wasn’t raised to leave people hanging. I care deeply, and I take pride in the work that I do. But constantly putting myself last isn’t a strength, it’s a pattern I had to break.
I also recognize now that some of the situations I’ve found myself in were choices I made. I ignored red flags. I prioritized salary and status over alignment and peace. And while those choices brought experience and growth, they also came with a cost.
Money will always come. Titles will always come.
But your time, your peace, your presence with the people you love, those are things you don’t get back.
So this time, I’m choosing differently.
I’m choosing peace. I’m choosing intention. And most importantly, I’m choosing me.
And for the first time in a long time, that choice feels exactly right.
Affirmation Of Visions 