Man, thinking back to April 2018, it feels like a whole different lifetime. I remember that spring so vividly, not because of some big project at work, but because of this gnawing feeling I had, a kind of low hum of discontent that just wouldn’t quit. I was in a decent job, you know? Good pay, benefits, all the things you’re supposed to want. But every single morning, I dragged myself out of bed, and by the time I hit my desk, I felt like I was already halfway through the day, mentally exhausted before I even started checking emails. It wasn’t a bad job, but it sure as hell wasn’t my job, not really. It was just… a job.
I started doing a lot of late-night thinking back then. Just staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was doing with my time. I’d pick up hobbies, drop them a few weeks later. Read books, but nothing really stuck. It felt like I was just drifting, letting life happen to me instead of grabbing it by the horns. My friends were moving up, buying houses, having kids. And here I was, feeling like I was still just treading water, waiting for some big wave to come along and push me somewhere. That’s how April 2018 really started to hit me.
There wasn’t one single, dramatic event that month, not like a firing or a huge fight. It was more like a slow burn. I guess it was a mix of things. I remember this one project, a really high-stakes one, and I just couldn’t get myself to care. I hit all the deadlines, did the work, but it felt hollow. One evening, after staring at spreadsheets until my eyes hurt, I just walked out of the office, got into my car, and burst into tears. Just sat there in the parking lot, openly weeping. That’s when it really clicked. This wasn’t just a tough day; this was my life, and I was absolutely miserable.
So, I started to actually do something. It wasn’t about quitting right away. I had responsibilities, bills, all that. But I started to look, properly look, at what else was out there. I opened LinkedIn, but not just to scan job titles. I started searching for people who seemed happy, people doing things I thought were cool, and I looked at their career paths. How did they get there? What did they study? What skills did they pick up? It was like trying to piece together a complicated puzzle with no picture on the box.
I remember talking to this one guy, a buddy from college who’d started his own thing. He was doing graphic design, totally different from what we’d studied. We met for coffee, and I just spilled everything. Told him how lost I felt, how I hated my current gig. He listened, nodded, then just said, “So, what do you like doing, truly?” I rambled a bit, then landed on something about building stuff, seeing tangible results, and maybe helping people directly. He just grinned and said, “There’s your starting point.”
Taking the Leap, Step by Step
That conversation stuck with me. So, what did I do? First, I started small. I didn’t announce to my boss I was leaving. Instead, I started using my evenings, after those soul-crushing workdays, to actually learn. I picked up some online courses, free ones at first, on things like basic web development, writing, even some stuff about project management but focused on small businesses. I wasn’t sure where it would lead, but the act of learning something new, something I chose, felt invigorating. I was picking up skills, not just doing tasks someone else set for me. I was building things, even tiny mock-ups, and that feeling of creating something from nothing was incredible.
Then came the testing phase. I started taking on tiny freelance gigs, super low pay, just to see if I could actually do it. Friends of friends needed a simple website? I jumped at it. A local charity needed help organizing an event? I volunteered, focusing on the planning and execution part. I was effectively working two jobs, burning the candle at both ends, but strangely, I felt more alive than ever. The main job still sucked, don’t get me wrong, but now I had this secret life, this parallel path I was carving out for myself.
I saved like mad during this period. Every bonus, every extra dollar, went straight into a separate account. I knew I needed a cushion if I was going to make a real break. I also started to network, properly. Not just handing out business cards, but actually trying to understand what others did, what their challenges were, and seeing if any of my nascent skills could somehow help. It felt clunky at first, like I was fumbling through conversations, but I kept pushing through.
By late 2018, early 2019, I had a small portfolio of work, a bit of savings, and, most importantly, a clear idea of what I wanted to do: help small businesses get their operations sorted, build their online presence, and just make things run smoother for them. It wasn’t some glamorous startup idea, but it felt real, felt like me.
My Path, Forged by Hand
The day I finally handed in my resignation letter at the old job, it felt like shedding a heavy skin. There was no big dramatic exit, just a polite conversation and a two-week notice. But inside, I was practically floating. I remember walking out of that building for the last time, and the sunlight hitting my face just felt different, warmer, full of possibility.
Since then, it hasn’t been easy, not by a long shot. Starting your own thing is brutal. There are days where I question everything, days where clients disappear, or projects go sideways. But even on the hardest days, I wake up knowing I’m doing something I chose, something I built, something that feels like my path. I pick my projects, I set my hours, and most importantly, I feel like I’m actually making a difference for the people I work with. It’s a hustle, a constant learning curve, but it’s my hustle. And that, looking back to April 2018, is all I ever really wanted.
