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Hey Reader,

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Exactly a year ago, I was perched at the edge of a Grand Canyon of decisions. As I peeked over the edge, the cold air rising from the darkness below was crisp with anticipation and work-induced despair.

All the unknowns of life after 9-to-5.

Behind me, the three-headed work serpent hissing and slithering closer. Its three big ass heads stretching high above, glaring down. Deadlines, career improvement goals, demanding projects, and all the other junk I never gave a rat's ass about.

Even when promotions were dangled like a sweet, delectable mango, my disinterest remained firm.

I was trapped in a cycle of ‘Sunday scaries’ — that Sunday evening dread before work — even on a Friday; the thought of the upcoming Monday had me wishing a car would run over both feet so I could tap out and enjoy the weekend in peace. Collapsed onto the couch, vibing and immersing in my curiosities that lay dusty and dormant during the weekday.

Like a glacier carving through a mountainside, each day of work had been grinding down my zest for life, bending me out of shape with anxiety. I could see the toll on my body - patches of red, angry skin flared up with the compounding stress.

The obstacle was the desperate need for certainty and a shaky belief in my ability to figure shit out on a new unstructured path. A feeling that would never disappear while stuck in the gulag that was Amazon.

I needed to forget the parachute, close my eyes and smash the massive red eject button — no steady paycheck or plan — just me and a wild belief that I could fly.

Winging it without wings.

A backpack full of hope and a head full of 'shit, what now?'

Fear whispered, "What if you fall?" But a tinier, braver voice inside screamed, "But what if you soar?"

I will forever remember, in vivid detail, the Zoom call where I announced to my boss, 'I’m quitting,' a statement that felt more like a battle cry than a resignation. Equally memorable was the final time I shut down my work laptop, boxed it up and FedEx-ed it to them, symbolically closing that chapter of my life.

After a lifetime of following society’s guidance on figuring out life, I barely knew my interests or myself.

All I knew was that this corporate thing was👏 NOT 👏 it 👏.

It wasn't a sudden jolt of clarity, just a constant, unspoken intuition that grew every time I saw my parents leave for work in the morning and then later in life when I sat at my desk for work.

It was a life designed by others, not by me and not for me.

In the distance on the other side of the canyon, with just enough eye-squinting, a bustling little colony of fellow rebels & entrepreneurs who've successfully made the leap came into view. Each is a tiny dot of hope, having traded their swivel chairs and office badges for the grit, struggle and unknown.

Some were starting their journey, while others were basking in the rays of freedom and success of their businesses. This sight of liberation from working for someone else reminds me that though the journey is mine alone, the destination is shared with many.

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So far, I made my first dollar online through freelancing; not how I intended to make my first dollar, but it’s a damn good start.

Along the way, I discovered my love for writing and the art of creation. I've quieted the voice of doubt with each product experiment and newsletter issue.

Now, I'm eagerly waiting for the rest of me to unfold.

But you know what? I am forever grateful for the burnout, the stress and everything in between.

Even though I would never willingly enlist in that 9-5 fight again, it was that struggle that led me to my tribe and instilled a fierce commitment to figuring out business or die trying.