I was working full-time as a creative director and found myself unhappy—

which completely caught me by surprise. I was 29 and thought I’d finally reached the point of my career that was going to bring me the joy I’d been trying to attain. I mean…. “Director of Creative” sounded like the pinnacle… what everyone working in a creative field aimed to achieve… right?

What really surprised me was how important connecting with people really was to me— and how little of that happens when you’re running a department. Sure… there were things I enjoyed but what I really wanted was to be behind the camera and hands-on creating the content.

Now let’s back up.

My career in storytelling after I graduated from the University of Minnesota with a degree in journalism and was greeted by an economy that was forcing newspapers to either severely reduce the size of their photo desks OR remove the entire photography department as a whole. Whoooo! Exactly what every new grad is excited for!

Throughout college, my days were made up of class, homework, part-time job (helloooo, Menards!) and interning. I completed five internships before I graduated, and another after I already had the degree — unpaid internship when you’ve already got the piece of paper… who else did this too?! So I was lucky enough to have made a lot of connections and I also found how persistent an individual I am. I reached out to everyone I had met to offer my freelance services because I could not get a job anywhere— not in the middle of nowhere that had a photographer position for $11 an hour (I was making more at Menards!), and especially not in a metro area that I actually wanted to be in… This is where my life as a self-employed/freelance/WannaBe-preneur began.

The hardest part was having people always ask…

“So when are you going to get a real job?”

Wait… what? My life was completely dictated by the needs of the newspapers I was serving. Typically I’d get a 24-48 hour notice for assignments, but many times it was a couple of hours before they needed me on location. There were times I was working 60-hours a week but I let the naysayers creep in and convince what I was doing… what was paying the rent for my 1-bedroom apartment, my car payments, insurance (car and medical) and all those other expenses that come with being a human with an expense business/hobby (oh my are cameras expensive…) … I let those people tell me that my success didn’t qualify as success because someone else wasn’t writing me a check every two weeks.

A Job Showed Up At The Perfectly Wrong Moment

From there, I actually ended up being offered a full-time staff photographer position at a southern Minnesota daily newspaper. At that point, that had been my biggest career goal. Get. A. Damn. Job.

It was amazing because I’d never known someone to pay me to do what I wanted to do for 40-hours a week. Like, what?! This is real life? I get to be on the clock for 8-hours then go home? This is pretty rad…

But the issue was that I was offered this position 6-months after I applied for it. The timeline would’ve worked out perfectly. I applied for this job, got to the final round of interviews AND, they picked the other guy. I was completely crushed but I lived. Then, 6-months later, that guy quit. They offered it to me and after a lot of thought, I took it.

I was living with my boyfriend (now fiancé) and his life was in Minneapolis. I wasn’t going to ask him to pick up and move. ESPECIALLY since we’d already planned to move to Northern California in the fall. We wanted to try something different. No kids. No mortgage. We felt like it was our last chance to do something like that before we had to “get serious” about life. I was offered the newspaper job 4 months before we were going to move.

So I moved south and my boyfriend and I did long-distance. Then he moved, and we did even longer long-distance. I decided I was going to stay at the newspaper for a full-year to finish out my new apartment lease, then I would meet him in South Lake Tahoe. We were both set on this being the plan. Until… the day he moved. After watching him drive away, I went to my empty, lonely, studio apartment in Southern Minnesota and started looking for jobs in California.

Heading West

After a month, I finally got an offer— capturing photo and video on a ski resort in South Lake Tahoe. Holy crap. Getting paid to snowboard?!

After moving out to Tahoe and constantly wondering if I was making the right choice, I was settled and starting my new role. It was wonderful! Flannel was considered formalwear so I fit in great ;)

Until I broke my wrist.

… crack…

Long story (within an already long story) short, I was injured on the job. There was a lot of back and forth and I know I got the s**t end of the stick. For sure. But I was broke. I was spiraling into a depression and homesick and feeling like I ruined the best thing that I had worked so damn hard for.

Fast forward a few months, we decide to move back to Minneapolis. To save some money (my boyfriend was paying for everything while I was out of work and mountain life is EXPENSIVE!), to get back on our feet and, to reassess what we want out of life as individuals and together.

I started a job in a creative department at an agency that markets independent financial advisors. Yes… it was as boring as it sounds. It was also a toxic environment for me which did not help to feel like I hadn’t f’ed up my life royally. I quit after 9 months.

I quit because I was offered that Creative Director role. On paper, it looked great. Big raise. Work remotely. Lead an entire department because of my experience and expertise. Still be hands-on in creation.

It’s Definitely Not Always At It Seems

But… everything on paper turned out to not be as it read. I spiraled into another depression because, as I learned in Tahoe, I tied my sense of self-worth so closely to my success as a professional that unless I felt that I was succeeding in my field, I was failing as a human.

I can’t be the only one that puts that kind of pressure of herself!

I stuck it out as the Creative Director. I was dealing with a lot of anxiety from my supervisors there that were expecting I was 150% working all the time. Texts and phone calls until 10:00 at night had me on edge the second my phone would buzz any time of day. I spent 6 months in denial that I was happy and trying to stay positive, and the last 6 months planning my exit. I’d work the job I was getting paid for during the day, but evenings and weekends were always spent building my business.

Figuring out a name, deciding how this was going to work and continuing to ramp up the freelance work I’d already been doing. I was the girl taking PTO from her job to go to a freelance shoot. I was making some decent money but I was burning myself out. The only happiness I found was when I was working on my side business and feeling like I was actually helping people build themselves and their own businesses!

So… I did it. I quit.

And I learned right away that it’s so much scarier to quit your full-time job for freelance when you’ve been dependent on that money than when you’re a broke college grad with no money and fall into freelance…

I was broke, but I was happier. My anxiety finally released. I kicked it into high gear and haven’t looked back.

Since then, I’ve learned a whole different set of stressors but they’re all worth it. Working with entrepreneurs and helping them grow their own business is exactly what I had been searching for for so long. I never imagined I’d be in this type of position because it’s better than anything I could have imagined.

Whew!! Did I miss anything?

Anything sound unclear? Please comment and ask away! I’m an open book :)

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