where i don’t have to constantly worry about money. it feels like a burden to go on a date simply because he can’t afford it. be feeling guilty the entire time we are on it. thoughts of me offering to split the bill run through my mind the entire time we are eating. i lose my appetite.

is that superficial? maybe. but it’s how i feel.

it’s not even one of those things where i expect him to cover everything. i don’t. but if i’m the one that has to pay most of the time, or i’m the one making the drives out, paying for the gas, or the flights, or any date, or i feel like i need to sacrifice a part of my lifestyle because i need to make sure i’m living in a certain tax bracket…

it makes me angry — i keep listening to my heart over what is practical. why can’t i have both? i want a partner that adores me, that i admire, and that i am attracted to. i find that i have been in relationships that only embody 1-2 out of 3 of these things.

not all three.

i think growing up i attached men who financially provide (and love doing it) to control over their partners. because that is what i witnessed growing up.

and then i got into a relationship that mirrored that experience for me, which made me distrust any man willing to give generously, thinking underneath that is an ulterior motive for control.

i know i’m wrong. i know it exists.

God, i know only you deliver true blessing. i know success and abundance are up to you. so why do i feel so strongly about this?

you have placed this desire on my heart.

i love my man, i do, but there are some superficial things that bother me about our relationship: we don’t have the same food tastes, he is not in shape the way i normally like my men, and he is not financially savvy.

but he makes me feel good. he grounds me.

something feels off. and i keep praying for it to feel right.

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a big part of the reason why is because of how much i needed to feel needed.

i thrived off of that feeling. being the one people leaned on, being the one people go to. for advice, for help, to get the job done. especially in the workplace.

arguably, becoming an invaluable person at work is what sets you apart and puts you in position for greater opportunities and higher pay. i’ve always believed this, because i’ve seen it play out in real time, with my own eyes, with my own career.

but i’d be lying if i didn’t say i’d had more than a few breakdowns, panic attacks, and seasons of despair where i wondered if this was all i was going to do and achieve. i yearned for more. but what?

i can tell our business is no longer at its peak. a once bustling and thriving industry that promised high margins and a revolving door of new clients has dwindled into something of a struggle bus. just trying to stay in the game.

an industry that raised me in my 20s was no longer the sparkly shiny gold mine of possibility i once viewed it as.

i loved it when i loved it. team dinners, parties, drinks at work, friendships with my coworkers. i looked forward to coming into work every day. it was like a party i could make money at. and being the most needed person in the room? even better. job stability, financial security, and a thriving social life as the cherry on top.

and then i gave it all up. i quit.

i began a season of my life where a relationship with God was more important to me, and where a relationship with a man (that i thought would end in marriage, but didn’t. maybe i’ll tell that story one day) was more important to me.

i wanted to take a serious step back from being on call 24/7, from late lunches, from 12 hour days, from the notifications, the spreadsheets, the numbers, the clients.

everyone needed something. and i carefully built that world so that they would all need it from me. God told me all i needed was Him.

so when i quit, it forced me to face myself. i had an identity crisis. i didn’t know what i liked to do outside of work. i didn’t know who i liked to spend time with, what i valued in a friend, where i wanted my life to be. i devoted my 20s to a boss and a workplace. and i loved them. i loved it.

but i didn’t know who i was without it.

so after three months of being unemployed and trying to pursue my own path, i asked for my job back. i was welcomed back with open arms.

but not really.

they were angry i quit and came back. i did some damage. i let all of them believe i was leaving for good and i just came back. just like that. easily.

they weren’t going to make it easy for me. and they didn’t. and i get it.

and now this same job has moved me across the country, where i definitely am not needed for the day to day. where operations don’t run as smoothly, but they run. where i am given a hoard of time to think, to get even closer to God, to plan, and to act on the career i really want.

God has always positioned me between three things— content creation, writing, and finance. i dabble in all three at different times of my life, at different times of the year, and i even quit all three at once and decide to lean on my job for a while.

i recognize that my job is a luxury, and it has kept me not just alive, but thriving for my entire twenties. i am lucky enough that i got to make a comfortable living early on in my life. it gives me this feeling like “if this is my starting point, what more am i meant for?”

but like i said, my values are changing. i once needed others to need me, now i need me to need me. i once valued a community, and i still do, but i realize i cannot attract a community that likes me for me if i continue to position myself solely as someone useful.

i’m not needed anymore. i have all this time to myself.

i'm going back into finance. day trading, specifically. and i’m actually going to stick with it this time. the life i’ve been yearning for is on the other side of one year of consistency.

here is the game plan: replace my current job with day trading, pursue everything else i want to pursue from there, during after and in between — content creation, writing, fitness & wellness.

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but apparently, a lot of people don’t. apparently, a lot of people followed their passions, and have three side hustles, and are making money doing something they love.

they are living what appears to be their dream lives.

many of these dream life livers also handing out blueprints online that sound like:
“here are the 10 things i did that changed everything for me.”
just follow this, and you can live like me.

and sometimes i try.
because it’s inspiring… for a minute.

but at some point, i always burn out.
because the life i’m trying to build isn’t actually mine.
the excitement of being distracted wears off

and i realize i’m following advice from someone
who doesn’t even think like me,
feel like me,
dream like me.

i look at the people i follow on instagram,
some of them have everything i want.
or, what i think i want.
and then there is the off chance i meet them in real life.

and honestly?
some of them are terrible people.
people i wouldn’t be friends with.
people i wouldn’t want to be.

what do they say? don’t meet your heroes…

but i still want what they have.

what does God say about that?
thou shalt not covet?

yeah. i see why. i thought hope bred eternal misery, but coveting does that and makes me feel like my life isn’t enough. like it would be so difficult for me to be content.

i’m learning that admiration doesn’t mean imitation.
and that just because someone’s life looks good,
doesn’t mean it would feel good to live in.

so maybe i’m allowed to pivot.
to say, “this doesn’t fit me anymore.”
even if i’ve spent years chasing it. or mere months.
even if it once lit me up. the pursuit has dried up.

i wonder— what is the difference between giving up on my dreams and pressing on? completely walking away from them and continuing down the path of the unknown?

i guess if i pivot i’ll never know. or maybe i’ll pivot back.

and the real pivot isn’t chasing someone else’s dream,
but finally getting honest enough to pursue my own.

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