Six months in to my new life...

And what have I learned?

There are times that I can’t quite believe that I quit my job. Being a magazine editor was such a huge part of my life and my identity, and who on earth did I think I was walking away from a salary in this economy? Although as anyone that works in media knows, nobody does it for the money.

But the truth is, it was a long time coming. A slow falling out of love with something that had consumed my entire adult life. A dawning realisation that I had been in denial about a lot of things. A lightbulb moment where I realised a job would never love me back. An epiphany that there’s a big wide world out there, and I can do anything I set my mind to. Well, anything that doesn’t involve maths or 5am wake-ups.

I’m now six months in to my new, multi-hyphenate life. I’m a novelist-in-waiting, working on the final tweaks to the manuscript that will become a proof that will be come a book (and it’s been an absolute dream so far, the luckiest break of my life). I’m a columnist, a freelance journalist, a media consultant, an event organiser, a creative director. I am absolutely working smarter, not harder. I couldn’t do it without the stability and financial support of my husband paying the mortgage (I’ll get him back, swearsies). It has been exhilarating and restful and lonely and weird and magnificent.

And with the distance provided by those six months, I’ve come to realise stuff a la Kylie Jenner. A lot of stuff…

*My nervous system was in a jocker for a good three or four years. No wonder I was always absolutely exhausted. I was sick and tired and worried ALL THE TIME. And it’s not because I couldn’t handle hard work, which is what I feared in the darkest corners of my mind. It was because my brain was never off and I piled far too much pressure on myself. Pressure to save an entire industry, pressure to do well for 25 employees, pressure to save face and seem great and project an image of calm. I don’t think I succeeded with that last one! But I was a trooper, that was my thing. So I trooped.

*I used to absolutely run myself ragged before and after any kind of break. Life was just one big whirl of “after this, I can relax.” I had an ‘aha moment’ after I came back from Mexico last year to an even fuller plate than I left. I remember being furious, thinking F*CK THIS, and then giving myself about three months to think clearly before making any decisions. I’d gone to therapy the spring of 2022, and without realising it, had been working towards extricating myself from things that no longer served me.

*Lots of PR lists are beyond fickle. Obviously, I knew this - it’s the name of the game. And I’d stopped going to 99% of events long before I quit as editor because they’d lost their lustre for me, and I was too damn busy. But it’s absolutely gas just HOW fickle. 15 years of support means nothing to some if you don’t have an impressive current title or tens of thousands of followers. I’m lucky I’d prepared myself thoroughly to handle the inevitable ego slump - others might not fare so well.

*I struggle to imagine how any of us went to the office five days a week, every week, 48ish weeks a year. Like, how?! And when I was the boss, I was all on for having people back in the office - I still think the hybrid method is best if everyone is in and out the same days - because it fosters real friendships, connections and craic. But I think I honestly outgrew it. I’m a sponge so I’d sop up everyone else’s energy and there’d be none left for me.

*My loneliness is more existential than real. It’s more that I miss belonging someplace. I see my friends all the time thanks to a more flexible lifestyle. But yeah, I miss my crew and cronies. It’s weird seeing them do stuff without me. But not weird enough to have stayed.

*I don’t worry about money like I used to, but again that’s because we’re finally in a position where I don’t have to hustle all day every day. We’re in our late thirties, already have the wedding and the gaff out of the way, we don’t have or want kids. It’s a very sweet spot and I do not take it for granted for one second. I feel guilty about it sometimes and then I catch myself on. I’m privileged but we have worked hard. Neither of us has ever had anything handed to us.

*The best part of it all is that I have space. Space I would have previously tried to fill in order to be as productive as possible. My friend Sarah would tell you that I’m still a workaholic, and inside I think that’s who I’ll always be. But I’m leaning in to the space, to the luxury of time to think and feel and create. To being alone with my brain and thoughts and feelings, and seeing what happens when I take my foot off the accelerator.

I would have feared that space in the past, worried about what would slip in to my mind if it was idle. Now I know that it makes room for good things. That writers need time to read, to watch and listen to stuff that inspires them. My degree should have prepared me for all of that - that’s literally all the English and Film BA from Trinners prepares you for. But I have always been highly ambitious - how else do you become an editor at 26, a managing director at 33 - and to me that has always meant go, go, go. Now it means slow, slow, slow. I think I’ve finally learned to have patience.

Thank you for reading my newsletter. It is such an amazing outlet for me. I missed it last week when I was on holiday! But I deserved a break from everything, and my god, it was glorious.

Until next week x