Last Friday I left my comfortable, consistent, high paying job to go into business for myself, coaching and writing. 

I have zero coaching clients and 15 subscribers to my fledgling blog. 

And yet, it felt riskier for me to stay than to strike out on my own. 

I was on track to make more than $150,000 this year. I had a hybrid position, working from home on Tuesdays and Fridays. I rarely worked a full 40 hours a week. I was doing my part to contribute to global geopolitical stability.  

But there was nothing personally fulfilling in the work that I was doing. 

There’s a quote I really like from Howard Thurman, an American author, philosopher, theologian, Christian mystic, educator, and civil rights leader.

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

I spent a long time trying to find out what makes me come alive. I’ve spent even longer doing work that was slowly killing me. 

I have a lot of excitement about this next phase of my journey. I also have a lot of fear. I don’t know where my next paycheck is coming from. I don’t know how long it will take for me to find a coaching client, or to figure out how to make money from writing on the internet. 

Conventional wisdom would tell me to work on these pursuits in my spare time while working my full-time job. Spend a few hours a week writing and looking for clients. Then, once I have a stable client base or blog following, make the jump to work on it full time. 

And I would actually give that advice to most people. But that’s just not how I’m wired. I’m an all or nothing kind of guy. I love to procrastinate. I could have spent the next few years pretending I was going to make the jump soon. Just one more client. I just need to hit 1,000 subscribers first. Once I have $100k in the bank I can quit. Then it would be 150.

I needed to make the jump so I wouldn’t have any more lies to tell myself about when I would take writing and coaching seriously. 

All that said, this wasn’t a random decision. I didn’t wake up at the beginning of August and decide to quit my job at the end of the month. I’ve known some sort of change has been coming since last Fall. 

I got my finances in order and started saving up an emergency fund. 

I did a lot of self reflection about the type of work I wanted to do instead. Then I took action towards a number of different paths, and pivoted once I understood what was and was not working.

In February, I moved into a less expensive apartment, reducing my monthly expenses by 20%.

This Spring I worked on a start-up consulting project and saw how easy it was for me to procrastinate and avoid my work when it wasn’t my focus. 

And this summer I figured out how much I needed to have saved up to not make any money until the end of February when my lease is up and I can relocate somewhere with a lower cost of living. 

When I lay out those steps, it’s easy for me to discount the amount of courage it has taken for me to get to this point. As I said, it felt riskier to stay than to jump. 

But if I don’t acknowledge the courage, it’s hard for me to acknowledge the fear.

And when I don’t acknowledge my fear, I can’t move through it to get the actual work done.

I’m mostly excited about this new journey, but I’m a little bit terrified. 

I’m afraid of failure. 

I’m afraid of going back to the company or industry I just left with my tail between my legs saying I couldn’t hack it. I’m afraid I’m a fraud, and that no one is going to want to pay me for my coaching services. I’m afraid I’m undisciplined, and that I won’t be able to run my business and my life without the external structure of a job. 

I’m also afraid of success. 

I’m afraid I’ll get everything I want and it won’t feel like enough. I’m afraid this journey will change me in such a way that I’ll grow apart from people I care about. I’m afraid I’ll lose touch with the people I’m trying to help. 

And yet I’m confident. 

I believe that everything will turn out alright. Probably not in the way I’m imagining or fantasizing, but still great. I believe that as long as I focus on my mission of helping men become better men, the rest will take care of itself. 

For the first time in my life, it feels like everything I’m doing is aligned with who I’m trying to be. That’s a really powerful and comforting feeling. 

I don’t know where this journey will take me. I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side. I don’t even know if there is another side. The only thing I know, the only thing I can see, the only thing any of us ever really know, is the next few steps. 

So I’ll keep my heading on my mission, I’ll keep my head down, and I’ll focus on taking that next step.

If you’d like to support me on this journey, there’s a few ways you can do that:

1. Subscribe to my blog, which may become a substack or email newsletter over time.
2. If you’re interested in learning more about working with me as a coach, get in touch.
3. If there’s something I can do to help you or a man you know, let me know in the comments.