A Quitter's Manifesto

I started to call this "In Defense of Quitting." But now that feels wrong...that implies that quitting requires a good defense.

You better have a damn good reason, otherwise you stick it out. Quitters never win and winners never quit! This is America and if we do one thing well it's persevere.

Well, not me.

I will quit the shit out of things. I will quit so fast your head will spin. I literally can not count the number of jobs I have had in my eleven years of adulthood. I think it falls comfortably between fifteen and twenty, but who is counting? Not me. Not anymore.

And let's not even go into the higher learning institutions I have ran away screaming from. There have been four. Soon to be five, as the prompting of this writing is the fact that I am quitting Aveda Institute's esthiology program. Cue "Beauty School Drop Out" from Grease. I know. What kind of jerk can't suck it up and finish a trade school?! This one. That's who.

A little background...

Growing up, my parents were firmly in the camp that you do not let your kids quit anything. Ever. (Disclosure: I adore my parents, they're darling people. They would be the first to admit that perhaps this method did not serve them or us well all of the time, so don't think I'm throwing them under the bus here. Trust me, we have had countless laughs and tears shed on this very topic.)

So when I consistently came home in tears from sixth grade nearly every day for months on end, BEGGING, pleading, and eventually threatening to physically throw myself on the ground and not attend the middle school my parents insisted I get a boundary exception and go to, of course they would not relent. My demands were simple: let me transfer to the school I should be attending based on our address, the one where all of my friends since Kindergarten go to. OR, let me go to the Vancouver Arts School so I can focus on playing piano. I'm good at that and I love it! But for the love of Jesus, do not make me go back to Alki Middle School.

This persisted until eighth grade when I realized they really weren't going to budge. During this time, I was also in sports. I was decent. I was tall which was a huge advantage for basketball. I had played softball from the time I was five, so I was good at that. I was never fast, but my height in basketball and decent shooting ability helped balance that. In softball I learned if you don't run fast you better learn to hit hard. Don't get me wrong, sports are great and I learned a lot. I'm grateful for most of my time spent playing and I know my parents never wanted anything but to provide my with all of the opportunities they could.

But I burnt out on sports years before I was actually allowed to quit. I remember one explosive fight with my dad who accused me of not wanting to play and having a bad attitude. "I KNOW, THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU, I DON'T WANT TO PLAY!" I shouted. He informed me if that was the case, fine. Don't bother getting up for the tournament tomorrow, you can just quit. SWEET SWEET RELEASE! YES! I felt like a weight had been lifted, it was magical. I knew my parents adored me and we would work past this but the important thing was I had been heard! I could FINALLY quit...and then at 6am, pounding on my bedroom door and dad yelling at me to get up for the game. I should have known.

I don't know anyone with more tenacity and perseverance than my dad. That man...wow. His drive and motivation to run his own successful businesses and often work 18 hour days when I was young, it's remarkable. I admire it, I truly do. And I inherited a lot of my dad's personality. But not all the chutzpah, you know?

My mother would tell you I'm more like my father. Shes referring to our temperament and hot headedness. She's not wrong, I definitely take after my father in that regard (although I have seen her throw a hissy with the best of them!) But I am also a lot like her, especially as I get older. We all become our mothers to varying degrees, don't we? My mother is a caretaker extraordinaire. She keeps us all together and well. She is a fiercely loyal friend. She's someone I would absolutely choose as a friend as an adult, and I have. I believe my friends would tell you I have inherited these traits from my mom. In fact I know they would, they have told me.

I give you this background and tell you these things to shed some light on people who quit and quitting in general for those who don't understand. I quit things. I do not quit people. I make friends and keep them. They're stuck with me, much to some of their chagrin I'm sure. Another common misconception about people who frequently quit jobs or school, is laziness. I hesitate to write this, it feels weird. But I'm going to say it because I am so disgusted and sick of this stereotype. I do more volunteer/charity work than you. Okay, that was inflammatory. No, not all of you. But I will say without question or hesitation that I do more than the majority of my friends. And that is not a slight to you, dear reader. It is to say that if you think in my lapses between school or work that I have not filled it with purposeful, important work...well, you could not be more wrong. In the times that I have had a break and not held a paying job or been in school the last few years, those have been the times I have had more on my calendar and been busier day to day than any time when I have held a job. Because I'm not inherently lazy. I couldn't be with my genes. Auberts and Foxes, they don't sit still well. We fuss over people, often unnecessarily, but we do it none the less.

All of this to get to the point. So why do I quit? It's not laziness, I typically feel good when busy. Maybe it's rebellion against not being allowed to quit things as a child, but I kind of doubt that plays more than a smidgen of a part in it. I've been thinking a lot about this lately. I have an innate ability to recognize that something I'm doing is not serving me well and then WALK THE HELL AWAY. Which as it turns out, according to some friends as well as the internet, is actually a decent skill. (Now, this is not true of everything. Carbs don't serve me well, but they're so damn enjoyable I will never quit them until the day I die. Pasta, I wish I could quit you.) It's something I've always had, but was unable to exercise until adulthood. I recently had a friend tell me this was something she enjoyed about me. You see, I don't feel trapped by what is referred to as "sunk-cost." Sunk-cost is what it sounds like. Cost or time sunk into something. People often feel stuck doing something because of the time or money already spent, even when it does not serve them well to stay. I do not. Money comes and goes. I'm not bothered by not finishing something I paid for. Just because something remains unfinished does not make it a waste or not a valuable lesson or experience.

My husband being the Steady Freddy that he is enjoys routine and knowing that he is in a career he will stay in until he retires. And that's great. But when times at work have been rough for him, I have expressed that I don't expect him to stick anything out in misery for our financial benefit. I suggest off the wall ideas like us buying an espresso stand, one of those mobile ones, and we'll just travel around and do that! I think my crazy ideas are one of the things he loves about me, but Brett has a lot of my dad in him in that he has a need to provide stability for us. I'm grateful for that. He also understands, I hope, that I don't hold him to a higher standard than I do myself. We're resourceful, smart people. There are always going to be jobs for us.

I used to let it bother me when friends and family would comment on my flighty nature, my job hopping, my unpredictability. Those days are over. I owe no one (save my husband and Jesus) a defense or reason or explanation for quitting. It's just a part of who I am. And some of you will view it as a weakness and say things about me needing to stick with things, it's good for me, it builds character, etc. I would tell you I have a lot of character as is. I like my character. It took me the better part of thirty years to like who I am. I really like who I am. It's actually amazing, it's the only upside of edging closer to thirty every day I've found, I like myself better and better.

So what's next? Well, in true Jen fashion I already have a job lined up thankyouverymuch. So I'll do that. It sounds right up my alley and fun. And yay, we'll have more money for some upcoming trips! And yay, it's part time and affords me the flexibility to continue my volunteer commitments!  I have spent the last decade trying to figure out what I want to do, what I want to be...I think I finally figured it out!

I want to be the wife Brett deserves. I want to be a mother to the foster children of Clark County. I want to be a mother to our future biological children. I want to love my friends and neighbors in tangible ways that make them feel known and cared for. I want to pursue new relationships with all kinds of people. I want to spend time being a better sister and daughter. I want to pursue God daily.

Everything else will work itself out just fine. I will do and be a great many things in my life. Just wait and see.