Three Years Later and I Still Don’t Regret Quitting My Full-Time Job
Three years ago, I walked out of the Hearst Tower for the last time. I spent almost 9 years at HarpersBazaar.com, working my way up from a full-time freelance editor to the Special Projects Director. There was so much uncertainty ahead of me when I left—but for once, I was excited about this unknown path. I had this feeling that my life was going to change in a big way, something was coming, but I didn't know exactly how or when. I just knew it was time to bet on myself because I had outgrown my 9-to-5. It no longer felt like a supportive environment; it felt restricting and suffocating. I couldn't be as expansive as I knew myself to be. So, for the first time, I would get to mold how I wanted my life to look and feel.
Nothing about my decision to leave that job was easy. I loved that job, it was all I ever thought I wanted, so it took me a few years to pull the trigger. In the meantime, I worked on mentally separating myself and my identity from the work that I did. Reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle helped with this a lot. There is inherently a lot of ego in everything that we do, and it feels even more heightened within creative industries. In the fashion industry, we are always made to feel (and sometimes actually told) that we are only as important as the brands we work for—that we should be grateful to be where we are, even if we're getting less than what we truly deserve. Being an editor is a powerful position in the industry, we get to control what is deemed important or a worthy story. Working at Bazaar meant I was guaranteed access to almost anything I wanted—and going out on my own meant my access pass would be revoked or downgraded. And I would be deemed as less “valuable.”
In preparation for my inevitable departure, I spoke to industry friends and peers who made similar transitions and those on the brand side who could become future clients. I always received supportive feedback and advice—but I also tried to take things with a grain of salt because everyone's journey is so unique. Just because something worked for someone else didn't necessarily mean it would work for me. In fact, one industry friend told me that I wasn't going to be able to make enough money from being an influencer alone, given that the market was oversaturated (and this was 5+ years ago) and that I'd need to have a backup plan. I was never exactly planning on hinging my entire future on social media—but why couldn't I? I did feel called to pursue the “influencer” path, even though it was hard to admit out loud because of the negative connotations, so I typically didn't tell many people.
I took a very calculated risk by leaving my full-time job. As much as I tried to prepare by saving money from paid partnerships I did on the side, there's no way I could've really prepared or planned for what was coming for me. I just had to meet the moment when it presented itself. At the end of May 2020, I made a video that went viral—and it wasn't for my outfit or a beauty hack—it was me speaking about white people's general apathy towards racism in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, and why I felt it was important for everyone to take a stand no matter how many followers you have. Overnight, brands and influencers started emailing and texting me for advice. From there, I joined forces with Danielle Prescod, and we created 2BG Consulting where we've been helping fashion and beauty brands craft anti-racist identities. I had a similar idea scribbled in my journal sometime in 2019, but I could have never predicted it becoming a reality so seamlessly—in fact, I don't think it could've ever become a reality if the BLM uprising of 2020 didn't happen.
My life has changed immensely over the last three years. I waded through a lot uncertainty to get to where I am—but one thing I've always been certain about is the belief I have in myself. I trust myself to make things happen, and go after what I want, even when I can't exactly see the path ahead. Knowing where we want to go is sometimes half the battle—and you figure out how to get there step by step. I'm proud of myself, and I also know I've been incredibly lucky. I've achieved so many of the things I dreamed of doing when I was still at my job—and even at 36 (almost 37) years old, I still feel like I'm only getting started. And I'm sure there are people out there who think it's “cringe” to acknowledge or to own our success so publicly, but I just don't think we do it enough, especially as women, and even more so for Black women. We live in a world where it's so easy to focus on what we're lacking, how we're not matching up to our peers, and what our weaknesses are instead of acknowledging and leaning into our strengths with all we've got.
Sure, there's always going to be a part of myself that wants to achieve more and more—but I also try to acknowledge that where I am right now is enough. I believe in my value as a human being, and I believe in the value of the work I create. There will be people who see my value and people who don't — but I'm not in the business of trying to convince anyone to see my worth. So I focus on what I can control, what inspires me to do the work I do, and I celebrate my wins, the big and the small.
And I invite all of you who are reading this, whether you've been at the same job for years, or you're thinking about pivoting into a different career, or you're ready to climb the next step of the corporate ladder—even if you're not exactly where you thought you'd be: please take a moment to appreciate what you have accomplished because every little step counts.