Something you don’t do is quit. At some point, every child gets told that “you don’t quit”. I don’t know who said it first, I don’t know what extracurricular did it, or what trauma occurred that triggered in me this idea. I wish I knew. I want to know, and yet can’t find the origin point of the inner voice who has never quit, and associated such conduct with shame.
You too have wanted to quit and then had someone say, “You are talented”. I had a moment like that in my junior year of high school, after what had to be the hardest year of my life. I wanted to quit the marching band, and a trusted educator came to me and said, “Think about it. You are talented.” I look back on that now, and I’m so glad she said that to me. I needed the marching band and didn’t even realize it. I went back and became drum major my senior year and will never forget the first trophy we took home in the school's history from the JMU parade of bands competition. That experience taught me to figure out my why, to carry it with me, and when I feel as though I’ve lost it, to search for it, discern, and ask for support.
But all too often, what also comes up is all the times I should’ve quit or when I wish I had done so sooner. I went and worked for 9 months during a pandemic in healthcare. I was working in a hospital in-patient unit and was direct support staff to bedside nurses. I will never forget coming in and seeing the hallways lined with Isolation warning signs, all the closed doors, and the N95 masks. I’ll never forget the night I had to float down to work in the ER and I heard the baby screaming with a 104 fever who needed to be airlifted to PICU. Sitting on the phone with a health insurance company who wanted to refuse the flight. I should’ve quit. I stayed, got COVID, and caused my mind, body, and soul irreparable damage. All because I didn’t want to be a “quitter”.
Days I spent trying to work, do my master's degree and care for a one-year-old because I didn’t want to be a grad school dropout. “I can’t quit”. Instead, I stayed up till 2 am, and read healthcare law cases about nursing homes that kill people. I should’ve never tried to complete that degree. I should have soaked up the first year of my child’s life, and not rushed, and slowed down. But I couldn’t escape that feeling. The shame attached to quitting. It haunts me.
I committed to a board position that has a three-year term. I’m exactly halfway through my term. And I have decided to quit. I have decided to step away, which is probably harder than quitting that job or degree. This is partially circumstantial which is hard in general but it's more than that. I’m not quitting because I lost my “why”. I’m quitting because I simply want to and don’t have time or bandwidth for the position. I do not want any added stress to my life and this position I have found has given me added stress. I’ve consulted with friends and family, and my sister said, “I don’t think you’ve told me one positive thing about this board”. And she is right. My why is still there, it still stands, but for the first time, I’m quitting for the major reason of “less stress”. For mental health and to have more time. What a bullshit reason!
In a country that values the hustle, quitting is never an okay thing to do. Quitting for “less-stress” or “to focus on mental wellness” is even more not okay. As a “strong black woman,” it feels almost unimaginable to just quit something. I have to have grit. I have a talent for leadership, transformational vision work, and organizing. I am talented, I must consistently give my talent, and must never think of myself. I must be developing, evolving, and proving I am the person who can get anything done. I must be working twice as hard as everyone else. I have to be the change. These thoughts have been in my mind since I was young. I was probably 10 when I first realized I had to prove myself.
I thought after COVID and being sick that I would finally slow down, but instead what I found is it only got worse. It got worse after I had a son. I wanted to show him what it means to change the world and dedicate your life to it. But then, after studying, I realized that a lot of people who try to change the world die doing it. And then I sat down and thought about my life and my inner thoughts.
Why have I all these years thought the way I do? Why do I put this pressure on myself? Why can’t I be human? A human who can exist without proving anything? Why can’t I be average? Why can’t I quit? What is beneficial for me? Is this part of a trauma cycle?
Sure enough, I have been raised the American way, and then my trauma has caused me to run run run. Run not for living in my truth and wellness but instead to appease thoughts constructed out of society, anxiety, PTSD, and my inner turmoil that I had yet to unpack and process through. And where did I run myself to? The ground. I am just bones, and bad bloodwork, and pain.
Here I am. Quitting, and still holding shame and guilt because “we need you”.
One day, I will release the shame and guilt, and live simply to be here, present, in the joyful moments. One day my healed self will look back and have compassion for this version of me. And one day, I will have myself back, and not at the expense of everyone else's happiness, but because I put in the work to stop the running. One day I’ll quit again, without shame and guilt. And I hope that day comes soon.
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