About two months ago, I decided to quit my job and stay home. This year marks my fiftieth birthday. Everyone thought I'd gone mad. With widespread youth unemployment and a deteriorating economy, I decided to give up my government job of twenty-five years. Everyone also assumed I quit because of one of my bosses, who harbored resentment and malice toward me and subjected me to all sorts of harassment for ten years. While that was ostensibly one of the reasons, I'd hated the job ever since. I never wanted to be a social worker, but I endured it until I finished my doctorate and got another job. I got my doctorate ten years ago, but since then I've been trying to find a different job, and I haven't succeeded at all.
That job has always been a source of nothing but bad memories and a present that reflects my failure. The bad memory came when I was in high school and a social worker bullied me to please her colleague, a French teacher, who considered me bad simply because I didn't take private lessons with him. She helped him and only stopped bothering me after my mother visited her at home and gave her a gift, which she accepted. From that day on, I considered everyone who worked in that job to be a bad person. Perhaps for this reason, I tried to always be a help and support to my students and refused any attempt by a teacher to bully a student. I treated them like my own children, and indeed, I earned the love of most of the students I worked with. Thanks to God, I left a mark on their lives that changed them and made them eager to stay in touch with me for many years afterward.
As for the present, it meant that I was a person with a doctorate in literature and a specialization in medical anthropology, working in a field completely unrelated to my studies. While others like me were racing to publish scientific research, attend conferences, and try to change people's lives, I was drowning in paperwork and writing, my life wasting away on the demands of my superiors, who seemed to relish the feeling of being in charge of someone more qualified than themselves, and who would harass me. My words might sound arrogant, but unfortunately, it was the truth. Furthermore, working in education always made me feel like everyone else was moving forward while I was stuck in a rut. There was no change, no development, no future, no ambition, no hope for anything different.
Every day I felt like I was dying a slow death. Everything about this job was destroying me. I had decided to quit five years ago, but my friends dissuaded me, constantly telling me it was a mistake. How could I leave all those years without a pension? What would I do with my free time? I was a working woman, used to leaving home every day for work, interacting with people, students, and parents. I would definitely become depressed and regret leaving the job, but it would be too late.
I thought it was too late. As for me, I knew that my peace of mind was at risk and that because of this job I had lost my writing skills, my passion, and all my hobbies. Even the knowledge I had spent a lifetime studying was of no benefit to me or anyone else. What is the point of a person wasting their life in a life they hate when they can change but don't try? The truth is that every time I was about to take that step, I was too cowardly and backed down, and I would hear the voices of my friends and my father, may God have mercy on him, warning me against my recklessness. But suddenly I discovered that the adventurous person inside me had not died yet, and that I could break free from all the annoying molds that people think we must live according to because they are the ideal molds for a stable life. Suddenly I dusted off that rebellious giant inside me and left the job and decided that there was no going back. Today, after two months, which is not a long time, I decided to reward myself by praising myself for that decision. Perhaps the change came late, but it is better than never coming at all, and I am truly very happy with that decision and the other decisions that resulted from it. My advice is to change; it's not too late yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment