I traded girlbossing for being home with my baby and an unknown path forward.

And I am so relieved.

A lot of people have looked at my situation in judgement.. asking how I could possibly quit my job in this economy.. how I would regret this “step back” in my career.. how making this decision was financially irresponsible.

But they must not know how much I love my child, and how everything has changed for me since becoming a mother.

I was the alpha in the room; I wanted powerful people in high positions to notice me, my value, my creativity, my ability. I was so validated by getting heads to turn, eyebrows to raise, and opinions to change in a room where I was the least suspecting person. If I could walk in the room and surprise someone, especially male work colleagues and superiors, I had won.

This need for validation came from several places that only my book “Dear Everyone,” can properly account for. So, to sum up a brutally honest and vulnerable story, I had given every bit of myself and my identity to the box labeled “career,” and not until becoming a mother did I realize how screwed up that was.

I don’t judge any mother or hopeful mother for having a career or still wanting to extend the same amount of energy towards their career that they did before becoming one. If you can honestly find a way to have your career be and look the same it once did, while also being the mother you want to be, all power to you. I respect you, and you should honor that however you feel is right.

Hell, I used so much energy convincing everyone around me that I would never give up my career; that anyone who gave up their career in the face of becoming a mom was simply resigning to a lesser purpose – a biological one.

I never believed that anything could be more valuable or bring more value to me as a person than to have a strong, exciting career, becoming a breadwinner, having a fabulous resume, developing into a leader with a fancy title, and making as much money as I could in a short amount of time.

But then I got pregnant early in my marriage and life felt like a record scratch. I was living an “oh, shit” moment as I realized that maybe.. just maybe.. there was more to this “mother thing.”

And 10 weeks into my pregnancy, I had a miscarriage.

And hell no longer looked like my career being destroyed or not getting the next promotion or taking a pay cut.

No.

Hell looked like losing a piece of my soul that I didn’t know I needed. It looked like getting a taste of motherhood, and then having it ripped away over a bloody scene in the bathroom at 3am on the night of my 27th birthday.

It looked like a girl who had a lot of healing to do if she really believed that a marketing career, corporate climbing, and a six-figure salary was the meaning of life.

Right after my miscarriage, I was deciding between two jobs, both a Marketing Director title. I ended up making the decision based on what I had each time before: Does this get me to the next rung on the ladder? Is it at least a 20% increase to my salary? And is it six-figures?

The only other thing I considered this time that was a bit different was whether it had a maternity leave policy, as I knew that I would be trying to get pregnant again.

This company checked those boxes. And very early on, roughly six weeks into the job, I knew I had made a mistake. I had been so focused on the cyclical nature of my decision-making, I had totally missed that I was walking into an extremely toxic situation.

And of course, I got pregnant a few months in, and I was too afraid to leave, to not have the salary, to give up the maternity leave in my near (but far off) future.

While I searched for other opportunities, I knew the odds were slim given that I was pregnant. I quickly learned that being in that situation was meant to teach me a lesson, and boy did it.

Throughout this time, and since having my miscarriage, I worked on completing my memoir, “Dear Everyone,”. It was a story that needed to unfold so that I could heal from the many parts of my past that I ran from; that ultimately were creating this internal conflict of what is more important – motherhood or career.

I had to work through childhood trauma, needing to grow up too fast, alcoholism in my family, daddy issues, unhealthy relationships with men, and the absolute white-knuckle grip that my career had on my identity.

I was in a job that was toxic, I had absolutely no idea who I was, and I knew I needed to figure it out or continue to suffer as a new mom.

I worked through it; it was tough. It required brutal honesty. What I discovered was ugly, but it was real.

And truthfully, not all of it became absolutely clear until 7:19am on July 21st when my firstborn baby was laid on my chest.

Being on maternity leave gave me the space and the clarity to close a chapter with myself and recognize that the way I made decisions about my life and career before were a cycle that needed breaking. It was clarity that whatever came next had much higher stakes if it meant deciding between a job and this baby.

I started to create community with women, primarily on TikTok, talking through this identity shift I was having, only to realize how many women were in my same shoes. And I realized how little we are prepared for this change of heart, and how hard it is to give yourself grace for experiencing it.

And by my third month of maternity leave, as I was anxiously counting down the days until I had to leave my three month old in daycare to go sit in a toxic work environment doing work I no longer cared about five days a week, I knew what I needed to do.

As a person of deep faith, married to a man who is not fully there yet, it is a terrifying, but hilarious thing to look at your husband and say, “I know I’m the breadwinner, but I have to quit my job and trust that God will provide.” I have not known for a moment how all this will work out. I quit my job four days ago and I still don’t know. But, Lord, I am thankful for a husband who, despite looking at me like I had four heads, allowed me to take this leap of faith.

And goodness, is it one.

We’re not in a position to survive on one income, at least for long. But I knew that God was working on me for more than a year, preparing a path that was illuminated by neon lights saying “TRUST ME THIS TIME.”

God asked me to trust where I had never trusted Him before: financially.

All my fears have been tied to money; not having enough, wanting more, needing more. It has been at the core of all my career-related decisions. It became painfully clear to me in becoming a mom that my identity has shifted, and that my priority is being a mom and raising my children. And where I need an income and want to work, it must be in such a way that weaves around my main priority. That wasn’t this job, and it’s not going to be anything like the jobs I’ve hustled through in the past.

In order to stand before this bigger and better door that God has open for me, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I must close the door of this job without knowing how it would work out, but trusting that it will – even without the promise of money.

I get it, it sounds crazy.

But this was bigger than the money. This was about breaking a cycle. And more than ever, I feel free. Creative. Intuitive. Discerning. And I know what’s next for my “career” will look completely different than it ever has.

And, God, I hope it will.