Getty Images
I smoothed my hair in front of the camera, my trembling fingers trying to remember to breathe. I was wearing my fashionable jumper, pyjama trousers and a huge lump in my throat. It was March 2021 and I was 27 years old and about to quit my dream job as a magazine editor.
I’d always wanted to be a writer. My earliest memory is sitting in my father’s study, fascinated by the music magazines he subscribed to, stacked like skyscrapers all around me. I didn’t understand what was in them, but I cherished them. I loved the bold words, the glossy pages, the colorful photos of smiling faces.
I wanted to be just like them, to have my words grace the pages of a magazine. I carried that dream to college, where I studied English (surprise!) and became the music editor for the student union magazine.
I was star-struck when, at 24, I landed my dream job as a writer at a women’s magazine in London. It’d been hard work getting there – I’d cried, I’d been broke, I’d fought tooth and nail to have my voice heard – but thriving in the chaotic nature of the newsroom, I wanted something more.
I set my sights on becoming an editor, and within two years, that title was added to my email signature. I wish the story would end there, feeling happy, fulfilled, and satisfied that I had my dream job. But unfortunately, that’s not true.
So what was it that led me to tell my boss I was quitting, fighting back tears over Zoom in the middle of a pandemic? It was by no means an easy decision for me. In fact, within a year of becoming an editor, the cracks were starting to show. At first, I tried to cover it up, feeling guilty about not being grateful. Then, I started to hate getting up and logging in every morning. I forced a smile, but deep down I was in pain.
“I’ve been working my whole life to get to this pinnacle, but in the end it wasn’t what I expected.”
Most of my days were spent chasing invoices, doing calculations and crunching spreadsheets. Listening to complaints, drafty fire doors, coworkers listening to the radio without headphones, sitting next to a paper shredder. Any success I had with writing felt temporary, my happiness at work was stunted and I felt like I was living in monochrome.
“This isn’t right,” I told myself when I received another email with my name misspelled (…Ernie, seriously?). I know this happens in most jobs, but this Assumptions That was my dream and I was extremely unhappy. I didn’t have the energy to cover up the cracks any more.
“But there’s nothing else I can do,” I cried to my husband as I told him my ordeal. lifetime I worked hard for this peak, I tried to climb this mountain and achieve my dream, but in the end I found out it wasn’t what I expected.
After striving for success for so long, it was hard to admit that it wasn’t making me happy. I was respected and admired in my role. Strangers sent me messages telling me how inspiring I was. I gave talks about how amazing my so-called dream job was, but in reality I was miserable. I presented a happy persona online, which was the complete opposite of how I felt beneath the surface.
“As a society, we attach a lot of value to work. When you get a new role, you announce it on LinkedIn, throw a farewell party, and tell lots of people how excited you are, so when things don’t go as expected, you feel even more depressed,” career and business coach Catherine Monkcombe tells me now as I reflect on that period in my life.
Like me, Gemma, 29, a digital PR specialist, was “obsessed” with landing her dream job, even messaging the CEO of the company she wanted to work for “begging for the job.” But three weeks after setting foot in the company, her opinion of the place began to change.
“The atmosphere was competitive rather than teamwork,” Gemma told me, adding that she also had to deal with overtime, annual leave and Christmas holidays. “I was exhausted, anxious and depressed and had to go back on anti-anxiety medication. Expectations were incredibly high and targets were constantly changing,” Gemma said. She felt frustrated and overwhelmed, and cried at her desk almost every day.
She left the role after just six months and, although she was shocked that her dream job had turned out that way, Gemma doesn’t regret that time in her career.
“There are no ‘what ifs’,” says Gemma. “We now have a better work-life balance and our new team understands that our lives don’t revolve around work.”
“I now believe there is no such thing as a dream job, only the overwhelming pressure we put on ourselves.”
After 18 months of sleepless nights, countless deep and meaningful talks with friends, and fights with my husband, I quit my dream job. Like Gemma, I was depressed. The worst part for me was admitting that I had shattered my childhood dreams. I felt like a failure.
I was jealous of my parents’ long-term, stable careers and worried about letting down everyone who told me I was good enough. Katherine says this is totally normal. “Many of us are afraid of letting people down or being seen as ‘job-hoppers,'” she explains. “In previous generations, quitting even a bad job was a risk because job security was paramount. With the rise of the gig economy, this isn’t so true anymore, but it’s a constraint that many of us inherited from our parents,” she adds.
Freeing myself from the belief that I would disappoint others or that I’d never have a job has shaped me as a person. Now I work for myself, have freedom, control my own time, write for who I want, and best of all, I’ve never been happier. Even if it’s only temporary, it’s worth it.
When I got off the video call with my ex-boss, I gave up on the idea of landing another dream job. I now believe that there is no such thing as a dream job, but rather the overwhelming pressure placed on you to strive for your own peak, and nothing counts as an achievement unless you succeed in reaching it.
What I’m doing now is a dream for now, but I’d like to one day work in victim services for the police or be an art teacher. Instead of following one path to the top, I’m following a meandering path, which Katherine agrees is healthy.
“There’s no one path for each of us,” she reassured me. “There are an infinite number of ways to get your dream job, and your dreams will likely change over time. You can’t go wrong if you focus on how you want to feel.”
I left my dream job and I couldn’t be happier – it wasn’t the end, it was the start of what I’m going to build the rest of my life around.
