Every once in a while, someone shares something so raw and real in our community that sticks with me. This time, it was a story about leaving a job. And they didn't leave because something better had come up. They left because the job had gone from bad to toxic... and staying simply wasn't an option.
Without revealing too much, here’s why:
- Hired as a remote worker, then later required to work onsite
- The commute was long and terrible
- Leadership changed, and the team fell apart
- Didn't feel valued in the role
- Time spent with family started to diminish
After months of feeling trapped, stuck, and unappreciated, they quit.
Hooray, right?
It's the kind of story we rally behind. It's that scene from Half Baked (language warning) that ended with a satisfying "I'm OUT!"
The triumph we feel in hearing stories like these isn't often shared by the main character. In fact, they're typically left feeling uncertain. Desperate. Scared.
Add the state of the creative industry, artificial intelligence, and what we're seeing in the news to any individual or personal situations (like leaving a job)... it's easy to feel hopeless.
And in this case, they asked a question I've been hearing too often recently:
Is there hope? Even now? With everything going on?
My answer?
Hell yes.
Of course there's hope.
But hope doesn't feel like we expect it to. It doesn't feel safe. Or certain. Or like everything is OK.
See, hope is belief.
Belief that things will get better. Belief that somewhere out there is the perfect opportunity. Belief that no matter what, we'll be able to figure it out.
But you can't believe in something... or hope for something... and know it.
There will always be uncertainty. There will always be the unknown between here and there. The messy middle. The part where you second guess everything, wonder if you made a mistake, and wrestle with the question, "Am I really cut out for this?"
And yet in spite of all this... we hope. We believe.
The fact that this community member left their job is evidence in and of itself that hope exists. That there's something better on the horizon.
And in their case, it's not going to be another job.
It's going to be something they build.
No guarantees. No certainty. Just a belief in themselves that they can do this.
That's all we need.
So if you're standing in that same place... at a point of courage... take that step forward. Even if the ground is shaky.
Hope is a dim light that burns brightest in the darkness. Find it. Move towards it. You'll find it gets brighter the closer you get. And remember:
You are not alone.
You are not behind.
And yes, there is hope
...because you're already looking for it.
Ben Burns
Founder. CEO. Designer. Maker. Dad.
For those who create™
P.S. I hope this sparked something for you. I'm heading into our weekly coaching call, and this was on my mind, so I thought I'd share. Love ya.
P.P.S. We're hosting an in-person workshop for those of you who are looking to scale your studio beyond working 1:1 with clients. Diversifying revenue streams, building a team, & more. We offered spots initially to members exclusively, and we only have six seats left (we're keeping this small). It's not cheap, but if this sounds like a fit, you can get more info and apply here.
