UNSUPERVISED: "Stability is a Delusion"

“Today is my last day,” she said, handing me my change across the counter. “Oh, it is?!” I responded, even though I already knew. When I walked into the store, I had overheard her lamenting to the other sales associate about how she’d submitted her two-week notice two weeks ago. But when the day of her planned departure arose, no one had remembered. As she repeated the situation to me, her disappointment was palpable. I asked her what was next for her and saw light flood through her cheeks and eyes as she stated, “I’m leaving to pursue my art. I’m an artist.” I lingered a while, inquiring about what type of art she creates and where I could find her work. “Congratulations on your next steps. Sorry they forgot your last day, but let that be confirmation that you’re making the right move,” I said as I snapped my wallet shut, grabbed my items and left the store. 

Something in me wanted deeply to affirm her in that moment. I had recognized something familiar in her expression, like trepidation mixed with relief. The silent, backhanded slap of being forgotten, dismissed without acknowledgment, after giving multiple years of effort and energy to a workplace was soothed only by the promise of long-overdue independence. I flashed back to a scene from my life five years prior, when I sat across the table from the CEO of my employer in her office and said through tremoring vocal cords, “I’m resigning. I have dreams of being a serial entrepreneur, and I think I should start now.” 

She was supportive, but I felt like I sounded absolutely crazy. I wasn’t stagnant or unhappy in my role, and I wasn’t being mistreated. I just felt called to do something else. But I still remember how potent my nerves were, sharing this decision I’d made for my own life. At the time, the people-pleaser in me hated to step away from a place where I genuinely felt valued, even if it was “just a job.” But I was also a little scared of the unknown. Before I left, my team took me out for a goodbye lunch. But I remember that I didn’t get the big, festive office party send-off that I’d seen so many other employees receive when they had an amicable resignation. I chalked it up to bad timing since I left around the holiday season, but deep down, I felt slighted just like the associate at the store. I also knew it was confirmation that I was making the right move.

Betting on yourself is a gamble. It’s less like a “leap” of faith and more like a free-fall, especially as an artist or creator. But each time I attempt to settle into a traditional career and pour my full focus into an organization that I’m not at liberty to lead or influence in a major way, I eventually crave more. The craving isn’t about power, but rather putting everything I’ve got - my imagination, creative ideas, strategic mindset, character traits, and accumulated skills - to use in ways that give my life meaning. I used to pride myself on my ability to sift enjoyment and purpose out of nearly any workplace or role I took on. But sometimes your purpose can’t be contorted to fit into the strictures of what you’re used to. 

I believe the long-term effects of stifling your potential are more perilous than we realize. It can generate fatigue, resentment, a sense of longing, and regret. But when compared to the real-time fears of instability or failure that come with betting on yourself, I get why many people opt not to. Here’s what I’ve learned, though. Stability is a delusion, and so is failure. Even when I felt like I had a lot to lose in pursuit of creative liberty and career autonomy, I gained the comfort of knowing I’d never abandon my potential without at least giving it a chance to blossom. I also gradually built up my prowess in my most valuable skill, which is my ability to figure sh*t out without supervision. So, in case you need to hear it, you’re onto something. You owe it to yourself to explore that. Take the leap, then free-fall until you figure it out. 

Briaan L. Barron is the CEO of Heye Frequency. She is a brand strategist, content creator, and designer on a mission to free creatives from stagnancy and self-doubt.