There’s no easy way to dive into this one…believe me, I’ve been typing, erasing, typing, erasing, typing and erasing for the last 25 minutes.

Let’s just rip the bandaid off.

I resigned from my job last week.

And no, not in exchange for another.

**collective gasps heard everywhere**

“Wow!”

“What?!”

“You’re crazy!”

“What are you doing?”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“How are you going to pay your bills?”

“You have a brand new car!”

“You live in California! You can’t quit a job in California!”

“Are you sure you made the right move?”

Trust me. I felt it all too.

But when you know, you know.

As CRAZY as it looks on the outside, something in me knew (right away!) that I was supposed to walk away and close this chapter for good.

And that’s the only honest explanation I’ve got.

I didn’t realize just how much my lay off last year changed me. In some way or another, it changed everyone, right? Prior to March 2020, I was swirling in a Texas-sized tornado of burnout and complaining about work every single time I plopped down on my therapist’s couch. Together, we talked through boundary enforcement within my various roles and tried to implement more self care practices in order to establish a better work rhythm, but no matter what we did, the truth continued to present itself. I was in transition. And as I was evolving as a person, I was growing more and more distant from my job title, and therefore, my job.

I’ve struggled with acceptance my entire life, feeling the need to “perform” as a means of gaining belonging or being needed by people. So being good at my job was something that I took incredible pride in, even if it meant sacrificing my overall joy and my well being. I wanted to be good because, ultimately, I wanted to be needed.

When I started going to therapy in late 2018, something shifted in my working world. And please keep in mind, this was well before LoveMo ever hit the scene. It was still a baby dream deep down in my heart that wouldn’t begin to blossom until the following year. Gosh, I accredit therapy (and God) for growing this seedling right in front of my very eyes. Anyway, through my therapy sessions, I began to distinguish “Monique, the person” from “Monique, the Conference Manager” or “Monique, the Event Planner.” In all honesty, these had always been the same person in my eyes. People would say “tell me about yourself” and I’d lead with what I did for a living. People would ask about my hobbies and I’d throw in meeting/event planning automatically because it was a task I could do with my eyes closed. One I could ‘perform” with ease and with success. Prior to figuring out who the heck I was, separate from the job I fulfilled, the two went hand in hand. It would take maaany counseling sessions to begin realizing that I was SO MUCH MORE than just a conference manager or event planner. That I was SO MUCH MORE than my job. And once I realized just how many facets there were to Monique, and to her personality, and to her passions, and her dreams, and in using her voice (!!!), I found myself disinterested in working 10-12 hour days, or sacrificing time on weekend shifts because everyone else had plans that honored theirs. From what I was uncovering in these sessions, I found myself beginning to check out slow and steady. So when COVID came in? Sure, I was scared and on edge and anxious and feeling powerless and just experiencing all the feels…but a few weeks into unemployment, I began realizing that this was the break I’d been praying for. This was the mental shift I needed. And once I became aware of that, my goodness, the sparks went a’flying!

I’d spend the next 16 months continually asking the Lord “what the heck am I supposed to do next?”

Grow LoveMo?

Go back to school? 

Go back to work?

I got recalled to work in early July. Gosh, I was so excited. So ready.

This was it. This was the Lord giving me my next direction. My next step.

I was so refreshed. So eager to connect and so ready to share conversation with other humans – face to face.

But by day 3, I was spending my evenings in tears. And I knew it wasn’t common. Or normal to feel this way after just starting a job…even if it was one that felt familiar.

I reflected back on my first few days at my second job – and just how often I came home in tears. Somehow I knew after an incredibly short time, that this job wasn’t for me. It was life draining instead of life giving and because of that, I began to resent my job. Looking back, I’m thankful for those hard feelings because ultimately, they pushed me into UNLV which opened up a whole host of doors that penned many chapters within my story.

But returning to the hotel last month reminded me of that second job. And while I didn’t resent my job, I also didn’t feel as connected to it as I once did. I didn’t find the same fulfillment in venturing into the office each day and I really had to make a concentrated effort to be present in the moment, focused on the work, and determined to put my best foot forward. If I took my eye off the prize for any length of time, I’d find myself daydreaming about things I was really passionate about, or relationships I felt called to pursue or the purpose that I’d worked hard all pandemic to dust off and discover. I found myself completely zoning out when talking about work things and tuning back in only when socializing and relationship building.

I was almost robotic when entering data and way more engaged when chatting on the phone with clients. And almost like a time machine, I was transported back to that second job and that overwhelming feeling of knowing this job was no longer for me. Within that first week, the Lord began to whisper “this is not it. This chapter is now finished. This job served an old version of you, Monique, but it’s no longer any benefit to who you are right now. And moreso, to who you are becoming. To where I am taking you. The next step is yours.“

The acceptance of that realization was hard. I FOUGHT it for two and half weeks. Work relationships were sooo good, I started to wonder if I’d heard God correctly. The stress of financial obligations weighed heavy on me and my flesh wanted the certainty of income like never before. But deep down, I knew I could only fight so long. I knew I could only “have control” of so much. Eventually, I’d be separated from this job – whether by obedience or by force LOL. So last Monday, with every bit of flesh fighting but every assurance in my heart, I submitted my two week’s notice.

Whether people get it or not,

Whether they understand or they don’t,

Whether of the faith or of the world,

Whether they support my decision or disagree with it, I answer to Him.

And if I’ve learned anything during my unemployment season, it was this:

Partial disobedience is the equivalent of full disobedience.

I don’t know about you, but that’s reason enough for me to honor myself.

To honor the work I’ve partnered with God to do.

And to honor the plan and the purpose He’s designed just for me.

Is there an area of your life that you’re partially obedient in that you feel God nudging for your full obedience?