I Quit My Job for a Vacation. It Changed More Than My Travel Plans.

The year was 2018, and I did something that sounds completely unhinged in today's economy: I quit my job because they wouldn't approve my trip to Los Angeles.

I had just graduated and was doing what a lot of recent grads do: trying to figure out why the degree, internships, networking, and all the things people tell you to do weren't magically leading to a job offer.

Like... I did everything right.

I got the degree.

I got the internships.

I followed the blueprint.

So where was my job in my field?

In the meantime, I was working at Nike, selling shoes while trying to make ends meet. Honestly, it wasn't a bad gig. The pay was slightly above minimum wage, the employee discount was elite, and every now and then we'd get free clothes.

It was a win in my book. Then I had a trip coming up to Los Angeles.

Now this wasn't just any trip.

This was my first time flying across the country, and at the time I was convinced I would eventually be living in LA because I dreamed of working in Film and TV, like Isa Rae. I needed to see what the vibes were giving before I started planning my future there.

Also, my situationship at the time was going. So obviously the trip was happening.

There was only one problem. I had run out of PTO.

My request was denied.

I vaguely remember trying every possible option. I talked to managers. I asked questions. I explained the situation. I tried to see if there was any flexibility.

Nothing.

The answer was no.

And listen, I had worked there for three years.

Three.

Years.

I showed up.

I did my job.

I wasn't causing problems.

I was a good employee.

At minimum, I deserved a little accommodation. Or so I thought. But corporate policies don't care about your feelings.

The only solution at the end was simple:

If you want to go, put in your two weeks.

So I said, "Okay."

And I did.

Two weeks submitted.

LA, here I come.

What's funny is I don't remember feeling stressed about it.

I remember thinking I'd miss the discount. I'd miss seeing my work friends. I'd miss having money to randomly buy the latest sneakers whenever I felt like it.

But that's about it.

Because in my mind, the trip was worth it.

More than that, I think I genuinely believed everything was going to work out.

Not because I had a grand master plan.

Not because I had another job lined up.

But because I trusted myself.

And I trusted God.

I remember thinking, There's no way I'm not going to find another job. I'm educated. I'm capable. I'm smart. I'll figure it out. It will all work out.

Now, let me be clear.

Part of my confidence came from the fact that I was living at home.

I didn't have rent to pay.

I didn't have a mortgage.

I didn't have pets or kids depending on me.

My bills were relatively small, and that gave me the freedom to take a risk.

I think that's an important part of the story.

Because this isn't me telling everybody to quit their job because management annoyed them.

I'm saying that when you have the ability to choose yourself, don't be afraid to do it.

Looking back now, this experience sticks with me because it was one of the first times I truly believed that my life didn't have to revolve around a job.

I know that sounds obvious, but so many of us spend years acting like our employers have the final say over our happiness, our dreams, our goals, and our experiences.

They don't.

At the end of the day, corporations are going to do what corporations do. They're going to make decisions based on what's best for them.

And honestly? That's their business.

The question is: What are you doing for you?

How are you prioritizing your goals?

Your dreams?

The experiences you've been working towards and praying for?

The life you're trying to build outside of work?

When I look back at my 22-year-old self now, I don't cringe. I actually cheer her on.

Girl, you did the right thing.

At the time, some people probably would've called it irresponsible.

Today (and even then), I call it courage. Whenever I face uncertainty, I think about that version of myself.

Not because she had all the answers.

She didn't.

She was simply willing to trust herself before she had evidence that everything would work out.

Looking back, that may have been one of the most valuable things she ever taught me: You don't always need certainty before you move. Sometimes you just need enough faith to take the next step.

Over the years, life has given me more experiences, more wisdom, and more confirmation that betting on yourself isn't always reckless. Sometimes it's necessary.

Sometimes the biggest act of faith is believing that one decision won't ruin your life.

That another opportunity will come.

That you'll land on your feet.

That God has already worked it out.

That trip taught me something I still carry with me today: when you've done the work, built the skills, and have the means to take a chance on yourself, don't let fear keep you stuck.

Go on the trip.

Take the chance.

Apply for the opportunity.

Move to the city.

Bet on yourself.

Because years later, you might look back at that younger version of yourself and realize she was a lot braver than you gave her credit for.

And honestly?

That's exactly what happened to me.

I still have zero regrets.

Just memories, lessons, and a camera roll full of photos of me living my best life in Los Angeles... jobless, carefree, and completely convinced that something better was on the way. And honestly?

It was. ✨