I Had an Easy and Comfortable Job. That’s Why I Knew I Had to Quit

How a leap of faith helped to kickstart my life

“Never give up on something that you can’t go a day without thinking about.”

- Winston Churchill

On paper, I had it all. I was living with my lovely boyfriend and had a very easy, reasonably well-paid job in a library at a world-renowned institution. I had great hours and generous leave in one of the world’s most beautiful cities. Why was I so dissatisfied?

I looked inward and searched the nooks and crannies of my mind and heart and came out with these realisations:

1. My job was good and I loved the people I worked with, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t me and wasn’t challenging me.

2. My life was passing by in a flurry of days and I was letting my colleagues down with my mediocre performance and desire to just get through the day quickly. I was living for those precious few hours of life on either side of the commute.

3. I’ve always loved history, but had always been too scared to pursue it. I felt I wouldn’t be good enough for university. Imposter syndrome is real even for teenagers.

Something had to change…

The original bout of imposter syndrome

Little by little I started to own that fear of not being good enough and turned it into positive energy. Excitement for the possibilities to come.

I did a little research on UK universities, bit the bullet, and filled in the application form. This was one of the first hurdles, and writing my personal statement, talking about my passion for history, gave me a glimmer of ambition.

My top choice, Bangor University, asked me to write a sample essay as I was last in the classroom a few (ahem) years ago.

Writing this essay, I was more sure than ever that I’d made the right choice. I enjoyed it immensely and felt in my element. It was also shadowed with the ever-present fear of being an imposter and of rejection. In fact, I was convinced my essay would be laughed into the waste paper basket.

Except it wasn’t. I was offered a place at Bangor University to study history.

Leaving my comfortable job

I now faced the utter fear of a person who was completely institutionalised by working in a safe and comfortable job for 14 years. What if it all went wrong?

I had to swallow that fear, keep my excitement levels down, and get on with working at my lovely job until the new academic year began.

As my final day approached, that fear was at the back of my mind, especially when I formally handed in my notice. But I was also equally excited about going off to Bangor, and was buoyed by trips there to find a new home and to explore the university and city.

On my final day, I was fairly calm, enjoyed leaving banter with my colleagues, and attempted to do some work in between the final clearing of my desk. It just didn’t feel real.

However, the feeling of lightness and happiness as I left the building for the last time gave me an assurance in my heart that I had done the right thing.

I had taken the leap.

Back to school

The car was packed, the van with bigger stuff to follow. We were ready for our road trip to Wales. This was it.

We moved into our new home and the next two weeks before term were filled with Snowdonia explorations. We settled into a routine of domestic happiness filled with unpacking boxes, putting together furniture, cooking, and lie-ins.

But as the first day of term approached, that tiny fear of being out of place started to emerge. I was exactly 30 years old… would all those 18-year-olds even want to be seen dead with such a dreadfully old lady? Would the teaching staff expect me to know more due to being older?

In reality, there were plenty of people of all ages on my course — even one older than me. I made particularly good friends with an 18-year-old, a 30-year-old, and a 40-year-old. Nice even mix there.

The teaching staff were great and probably liked the fact that I was often the only one to smirk at their jokes or popular culture references that showed their age.

One of my history lecturers gave me lots of advice on being a woman in academia and on how imposter syndrome greatly affects women in particular. Of all the people I met, this inspirational person made me feel comfortable doing what I loved.

I realised fear is natural — but it’s not who I am.

So what did change?

In a word… me.

With encouragement from a couple of people around me (including my now husband) who knew I could and wanted to do better, I decided to give it a go. After all, what was the harm in trying?

The people I met on the journey were invaluable at imparting knowledge, sage advice, and setting inspiring examples to show me that I had made the right decision. Any fear I had was unnecessary and could be pushed through.

Fast forward to 2021 and I’m currently writing this from my desk in the South of France. These past few years have seen me move from Cambridge to North Wales and now to France. I married that boyfriend, got a dog, had two children, and gained a BA and a Masters in history along the way.

I’m now a freelance writer, and I no longer wish my days away just to hurriedly eat some dinner and watch a TV show in the evenings before bed.

Now I wish for more hours in the day to do everything I want: enjoying my babies, spending time with my husband, getting absorbed in my writing, gardening, eating pastries, sewing, reading… the list is endless.

If you find yourself muddling through life, bored, living for the weekends, you need to ask yourself a few questions:

1. Why are you bored? What is your passion? What would you rather be doing instead?

2. How can you make it happen? Think of the steps you need to take to bring that passion into your life.

3. What is holding you back? Is it fear of being laughed at? Is it fear of not being good enough? You need to know that no one is going to laugh at you as they are all too busy worrying about their own issues. You are good enough. What is the worst that could happen? It is much better to live with knowing you tried rather than living with the what-ifs.

Life is short and we all owe it to ourselves to make it count.

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