The Writing Challenge - The Fool
The biggest risk I have ever taken was believing in myself enough to walk away from security and build something of my own. For most of my life, risk meant staying safe — always having another job lined up before leaving one, always pushing through exhaustion, always proving my reliability. As a single parent, a psychologist, and someone who is Autistic with ADHD, I carried responsibility on every level. I worked fifty to sixty hours a week, burned out multiple times a year, and got sick often. Three years ago, I reached a point where I had to face a hard truth: I could continue down a path that was slowly breaking me, or I could take a leap that might save my health, my future, and my ability to be present for my child. Choosing myself was terrifying — and it was the bravest thing I have ever done. Leaving my job meant walking away from a steady paycheck and the sense of stability that came with it. The fears were loud and constant. Would I be able to support my son? Would I fail? Would I embarrass myself in my own profession? Would I let the people I loved down? Even though I knew I was a strong Psychologist and an exceptional employee, self-doubt crept in where confidence should have lived. Still, most of the people around me believed in me. They saw my tenacity even when I struggled to see it myself, and that quiet support carried me forward when my own faith wavered. About six months before I officially left, I began preparing for independence. I built connections, created a website, and formed an LLC. At the same time, I was learning how to honor my needs — requesting disability accommodations and realizing that protecting my nervous system mattered more than saying yes to everything. The moment everything changed came when I received an email that revealed my employer speaking negatively about my need for boundaries. I responded, sought clarity, and then handed in my notice. Even when the owner tried to convince me to stay, I knew I could not. I cried. I was terrified. But I was also proud — and for the first time in a long time, I felt relieved.