Too Good to Stay, Too Bold to Settle: On Adulthood, Work, and the Weight of Being "Too Much"
At almost forty, I still find myself at odds with what adulthood is supposed to look like. Somewhere between job number five thousand and ten, I resigned — again. I don’t know if I should even be sharing this, but I’m a writer. Silence has never been an option. Expression is survival, and this is me, expressing loudly. I keep asking: is it me, or is it them? If I’m honest, it’s probably not me. But why, then, am I always the one who has to leave? Out of all the people my age, I find myself alone. Or maybe I’m just alone out loud , unafraid to say what others whisper in private. That’s its own kind of isolation. Since the age of 23, I’ve held a Master of Science degree. On paper, I’ve done everything right. I’ve worked, studied, contributed, learned, led. Yet the professional world has made it clear — painfully, consistently — that I am "too much." Too smart. Too assertive. Too curious. Too revolutionary. Too honest. I’ve been told, with practiced corporate politeness: You’r...
