Words that land, Not leak

I recently resigned from my job, carrying nothing more than a plan that’s wrapped in hopes and dreams. No blueprint. No safety net. Just a stubborn belief that something better is possible. And that sometimes - the only way out is through.

One of the biggest struggles I face as a person is the inability to communicate without tears. Especially when the weariness is to the bone. Writing allows me to breathe. It lets my words land as they should - without the distraction of a trembling voice or blurred eyes. You get to read them in your own tone. No drama. Just honesty and how you choose to receive them.

It’s taken me a while to get here. Months of reflection, of digging through my own debris. Looking for a way forward that felt more like me. Yesterday told me to take the risk.

My boss called me to her office and asked me where I see myself in ten years. She said she won’t accept my resignation letter until I had an answer. Giving her an instant response would have leaked. My words would have been swept away by my drowning eyes.  

I know exactly where I want to be. Because to me, life isn’t a list of accomplishments waiting at the end of a decade. It’s not the house I hope to own, or the stamps on my passport, or the trophies lined up on a shelf.

To me, life is every day.

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It’s hearing the whistle of my old manual kettle on the stove in the morning. It’s standing in a quiet forest and watching the sun fight its way through the trees. It’s arriving at work, doing my best and knowing that my best is enough to earn me a peaceful sleep. So I can wake up and do it all again.

That’s the kind of life I want to live.

The journey to achieving this hasn’t been easy. My choices - bold, flawed and fully mine - have demanded sacrifices. The biggest one being how I raise my child. I could have chosen a simpler path. Married her father at 23, tucked myself into a life my family would’ve approved of. But I didn’t. And it’s something the world will never let me forget.

I moved to Joburg with a plan to see my child often - a plan I stuck to, until recently. The last ten months, have seen me see her less than I did during the four years I’ve spent working here. That’s not due to lack of love - it’s the cost of bad planning, the kind of life that doesn’t allow you to plan at all.

(Paragraphs I had to remove) 

So, I’m walking away. Without a new job lined up. In this economy, that’s terrifying. But I believe in my skillset to carry me through core bills until something comes up. I’m sending it all out to the universe. And hoping, really hoping, that it meets me halfway.

To my mentor, my boss, the one who’s guided me with patience and truth - you’ve made me feel seen. Your support, your belief, your feedback… it’s held me together more times than you know.

This isn’t the end. It’s the quiet, shaky, deeply personal beginning of something I don’t have a name for yet.

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