Tag: relationships

Life Is Too Short to Stay Where You Aren’t Loved

For the past three years, I worked for a severe narcissist. Initially, I took the job because we needed the money, and it was in a field I was dying to work in. From the moment I met the two owners, I knew one of them was a narcissist. I ignored that red flag because I thought I’d mostly be working with the other owner. Their arrangement seemed perfect: one owner handled financial planning behind the scenes while the other brought in clients. It worked—until it didn’t.

When the owners split, I stayed with the narcissist because the other advisor was pushing people into products that didn’t seem right for them. With the narcissist, I had the freedom to create plans and had tons of autonomy because, frankly, he didn’t know how to do much of the work himself.

At first, it felt like we were all in it together: the admin, the junior advisor, the narcissist, and me. We were a team against the other owner who had left. But that unity didn’t last. One by one, the narcissist started trying to turn the whole team against one person (a new person each time). Even during the busiest times, he was often on vacation—sometimes two trips a month. It became an issue. I finally told him I thought he needed to be around more, and he completely lost it. He exaggerated everything, telling the team I said he didn’t do his job. That was the turning point when we all lost respect for him and where the other two finally realized he was a narcissist.

After that, I avoided talking to him unless absolutely necessary and focused on my work. I loved my job and didn’t want to lose it (I worked from home so it was really easy not to talk to each other). Meanwhile, my husband hit a milestone at work, earning the “magic number” I always thought would mean I could quit my job if I needed to.

The last few months were amazing. I was working in a job I didn’t financially need but genuinely enjoyed. That felt like a dream—or at least my dream. But then, 2.5 weeks ago, everything shifted.

The owner asked me to take on a project that was technically his responsibility, but I agreed. Neither of us knew how to handle it, but I tackled it anyway. He doesn’t like to be bothered with anything and expects everything to magically happen without his involvement until he steps in to meet with clients. I was doing tasks that no advisor should ever delegate to support staff. Then, during a phone call, he accused me of being frustrated with him—which I wasn’t. By the end of the call, he admitted that he was frustrated with me for asking him a question that he swore he already told me the answer to. I told him I needed to talk to my husband to decide if this job was still the right fit. The next morning, I quit.

Now I’m a stay-at-home mom. I’ve been helping a friend who is an advisor, unpaid, just to stay connected to the industry I love.

Where I Am Now
I’m scared. I’m loving it. I’m bored to tears. I’m rediscovering other passions—all at the same time.

I feel a little lonely without much work while my kids are at school. I’m still pursuing my CFP certification because I want the option to go back to work once my kids are in school full-time. My house has never been so clean (despite two little dudes running around). My dinners are more creative, and we’re baking for the holidays and actually doing all of those crafts my kids have been wanting to do. That part is wonderful.

But I’m scared too. What if I want to go back to work and I’ve been out of the industry too long? What if we need my extra income next year? Should I have stayed, swallowing my pride and ignoring his rude comments? After all, I loved the actual work.

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never know. I don’t believe in fate, but I do think I’ve become wise enough to know when to walk away. I believe I have a skill for weighing risk versus reward. The reward of staying in a soul-crushing job with a narcissist no longer outweighed the emotional toll it took.

Now, I’m more present with my kids, and they’re growing so fast.

What’s Next?
Everything will be okay in the end. But I know my feelings will ebb and flow until this new normal settles in. Right now, it feels both strange and wonderful. It’s frightening, yet freeing. And I’m learning to embrace all of it.

Finding Balance or Throwing it Out Entirely

Life is a constant juggle between competing ideologies, especially for those of us who are deeply passionate about various subjects. I often find myself torn between conflicting schools of thought, each championing their own way of living as the ultimate path to fulfillment. For example, as someone who dives deep into the nuances of nutrition, I’ve explored everything from Dr. Joel Fuhrman’s whole foods, plant-based Nutritarian diet to high-protein and meat-centric regimens promoted by fitness enthusiasts. My current approach is a blend of whole foods, high plant-based intake, moderate protein, and regenerative meat, yet it still feels like I’m not hitting the mark perfectly. But today, my mind is occupied with a broader and more pressing issue: the quest for balance versus the pursuit of singular passion.

Many advocate for spending more time with family, suggesting that this is the key to true happiness. They warn against dedicating one’s life solely to the pursuit of wealth, only to realize too late that it was a fruitless endeavor. Conversely, figures like David Goggins and Cameron Hanes promote an all-in mentality, urging us to pour every ounce of our energy into perfecting a craft, arguing that this pursuit is the only path to a meaningful life. Both perspectives resonate with me, yet they seem irreconcilable. On one hand, there’s the call to find joy in life’s simple moments with loved ones. On the other, there’s the drive to achieve greatness through relentless dedication to a single pursuit.

The common thread in both ideologies is the search for external meaning. Whether it’s through family or personal achievement, the aim is to find something that gives our lives purpose. At times, I entertain the idea of blending the two approaches. I could dedicate myself to something I find deeply meaningful, but who would take care of my children in the meantime? Perhaps my children themselves are my life’s work. The thought of homeschooling appeals to me—teaching them hard work, grit, and resilience. Yet, I’m not entirely convinced this would fulfill me completely.

I work as a financial planner, a job I love, but the more I immerse myself in it, the more I feel I’m taking time away from my children. Similarly, my interests in nutrition, fitness, and cooking are driven by a desire to stay healthy for my active lifestyle and my family, not as standalone passions. So, where do I go from here? What should I do? For now, I take it one day at a time. I believe the key lies in being fully present in each moment. When I work, I’m wholly focused on my tasks. When I’m with my kids, they have my undivided attention.

I’ve simplified my nutrition by sticking to the same meals until dinner. My workouts follow a consistent weekly routine and I have been adding to it now that my kids are out of school for the summer. I’m also exploring mobility exercises, starting with “Body by Breath” by Jill Miller. Despite this, my to-do list remains long. Is this balance, or a lack of focus and meaning?

Many of my friends work long hours in jobs they dislike, justifying the sacrifice with the financial rewards. I know this isn’t the answer. They will likely regret missing their children’s childhoods. I work part-time from home, a privilege I cherish, but it comes with its own set of doubts. Is the pursuit of meaningful work the missing piece for those working long hours? Can kids be the sole source of meaning in life?

When my first child was a baby, I worked full-time, and he went to daycare. I didn’t mind being away because I am not cut out for dealing with constant crying 24-7. Losing that same job after my second child was born was a horrible feeling of loss, despite my distane for the mundane work. I’m in a better place with more time for my kids and a job I find meaningful, but the paycut sucks and has affected my confidence in myself. There still a nagging feeling that something is missing. What is that thing? I don’t have that answer, but here is what I know for sure:

  1. Having my kids home feels right 100% of the time. Since ending daycare and starting part-time preschool, the time I have with my kids has been incredible. It’s challenging, but never not worth it.
  2. My work aligns with my passions. I love helping people with their finances. However, I struggle to make time for studying for my certification because I don’t feel that it is a priority and I need to reassess my purpose there.
  3. Financial constraints are a challenge. I don’t feel deprived, but I know I’m underpaid for my worth and the value I add to my current company. This will need to be addressed aftermy kids need me less. Homeschooling is still a consideration too so I don’t have a timeline with this.
  4. Health and fitness are important to me. My workouts and nutrition are good, and I’m in decent physical shape, but not at my peak. This is an area I want to improve upon.

Finding real purpose in life is a complex and ongoing journey. I don’t have any of it figured out and I don’t pretend to. I think much of my issues stem from my perfectionist tendencies, but I think I am closer to true meaning than I have ever been before.