I quit my toxic dream job for my daughter

After working fifteen hours on New Year’s Day, I decided to quit my toxic job. If you’re wondering how I got here, let me backup and start at the beginning. 

I started what I had thought was my dream job three years ago, right at the start of a worldwide pandemic. I worked from home with a team I adored and got to write about a subject I was passionate about. I was basically a rom-com journalist, with a dash of “Contagion” added in.

However, like many, the pandemic changed my job in ways I could have never imagined. The dream of working from home slowly turned into a nightmare, as it became clear that I could literally never leave the office. This often meant I was getting messages well outside of work hours, with expectations for completing tasks at any hour of the day. During lighter periods of work, my typical day consisted of about ten hours with no lunch break. But, more often than not, my work would require me to log back on later in the evening to complete tasks.

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For an embarrassingly long time I considered all of this normal. After all, during the early pandemic the world was shut down. What else did I have to do with my time? The toxicity was a slow burn that started to eat away at my life. It started with little things, like telling my husband I had to work late, and I would have to put off eating dinner together until the next night. But those little things started to snowball and grow, like small problems always do.

I started missing out on holidays, because I was told the job was 24/7 and that included holidays. I became glued to my phone, always terrified of missing a Slack notification and upsetting my boss. That first year I worked more weekends than I can remember, because our weekend coverage kept quitting and it was up to me and my co-workers to cover.

I remember a time early on that I came so close to quitting. It was about two months into the pandemic, and my co-worker and I had a call with our boss where we mentioned we were tired—big mistake. We were quickly reminded that we had no reason to be tired and that people would kill to have our jobs. I remember turning off my video camera and microphone during the call and full-bodied sobbing, all while I continued to listen to my boss lay in on us.

During that time it brought me plenty of joy (and even more misery), but it was not worth staying another second if it meant time away from my child. Having her gave me a renewed sense of value in life, both for her and myself.

The toxic environment continued on like a cycle of abuse. My team and I worked ourselves to the bone, our boss told us it wasn’t good enough, it would shatter us and then they would come in to apologize and put the pieces back together again. On and on it went, all while I reminded myself what I kept hearing,“This is a dream job. Anyone would kill to have this.”

It all changed for me in Fall 2021, when I learned I was pregnant with my first child. For years, I had taken my relationship with my husband for granted, allowing myself to work myself to death because I knew in my heart we were solid and he would always be there. A baby was different—our foundation would be built on sand, and would be one I would need to nurture and solidify myself.

Related: Live to work or work to live? How I put my career in perspective

I came back from maternity leave with a renewed purpose in life: working to live, not living to work. But, that’s not how my company worked. And so, it was time to say goodbye to the one-time dream job that had consumed my life for three years. During that time it brought me plenty of joy (and even more misery), but it was not worth staying another second if it meant time away from my child. Having her gave me a renewed sense of value in life, both for her and myself.

Having a child gives you a constant comparison and you’re always holding a mirror up to your own life. Is this situation something I would want for them? I think it’s important to note here that no one deserves to be in a constant job, whether you have kids, want them or don’t plan on having them. But, for me, it took the wake-up call of having my daughter to realize this was something I would never want for her.  So why would I want it for myself?

Related: To the working mom who’s also a stay-at-home mom: I see you

I jumped without a parachute, with no back-up plan or job in place. Privileged? Absolutely. Reckless? Probably a yes, as well. Worth it? Without question. But I realized that no “dream” job is worth the nightmare I endured in missing my daughter grow up. So, I will wait to pause, breathe and find a job that will not only respect me as a person, but as a mother as well.