Tripping my way out of boxes

(Lessons I thought I'd already learned)

I’ve written many times before about fighting throughout my life to get out of too-tight boxes that never felt like loving containers for my growth. There was the religious “good girl” box, the corporate lawyer box, and the heteronormative wife box, to name a few. And all of the boxes I’ve ever been trapped in were built, at least in part, by forces outside my control—systems and communities and people who convinced themselves they knew what was best for me without my input.

It’s only been through learning to trust myself and getting up the courage to make tough decisions that I escaped from those suffocating spaces. That I reinvented myself as many times as needed to reroot in soil that felt like home.

My track record of success with freeing myself from other people’s expectations made me think I was no longer susceptible to being boxed in. But a brutal, five-month-long job search showed me that even after all the unpacking, healing, and regeneration I’ve done, I’m not immune to being pushed back into the status quo. How humbling it is to think you’ve learned a lesson and taken it to heart, only to find yourself walloped in the face by that lesson once again.

The decision to start job hunting wasn’t an easy one for me. Having worked for myself for over seven years, I was navigating mixed feelings about returning to being an employee. I experienced a lot of resistance to the thought of losing control over my schedule and life, even in exchange for a consistent paycheck. However, I reasoned that getting a more traditional job would be the best way to support my artistic endeavors as a writer and creator and contribute financially to the household I share with my fiancée.

So even though I felt apprehensive, I started my search last September with clear boundaries and expectations. In an email to my network where I let people know I was looking for employment and described how they could assist me, I laid out some specific parameters. I wanted a job in social media marketing and/or copywriting, I wanted to work for a company that shared my values, I was open to either part-time or full-time work, etc. Everyone was supportive, and I was initially the picture of bright-eyed optimism and determination.

Unfortunately, I found myself job hunting in a horrible market where every position had hundreds of applicants. If I didn’t apply within the first 48 hours of a job being posted, there was a good chance no one would even look at my application materials. I was spending hours each day scouring job sites and carefully tailoring applications only to get crickets in response.

As the months crept by, panic set in, and my mind became an anxious vortex. Why could no one seem to appreciate all the incredible work I’d done and the skills I’d developed as a business owner? Had the last seven years of my life been meaningless? Was it a pipe dream to have a clear vision of what I wanted in a future role? How long, realistically, could one search for work without finding anything? (A long time if the horror stories online were any indicator.) Was it fair to put the household financial burden on my partner? Would we even be able to afford to move from our homophobic neighborhood if I couldn’t find a job?

As the what-if gremlins got louder, the sound of my inner voice became almost inaudible. Suddenly, out of desperation, I was applying for positions that would not have been a good fit for me. Jobs where I truly didn’t care about the company’s mission, jobs where I would have been bored out of my mind, and jobs that would have been so mentally taxing they wouldn’t have left any time for my other pursuits.

I felt myself getting boxed into what I thought I should be doing under the circumstances rather than what felt most aligned. I was careening dangerously close to a career decision I’m certain I would have come to regret. And as the days went by, I started getting depressed to the point where it was hard to do anything.

Sometimes, though, the universe has your back, and a series of events happened in succession that saved me from making a huge mistake.

The first was my decision to take a large dose of mushrooms at the encouragement of my partner—something she’d had great experiences with in the past and had been recommending I try since we first started dating.

It’s not that I was against the idea of taking psychedelics for therapeutic purposes. Weed has done wonders for me in that realm, and I’m grateful to live in a state where it’s been legalized. A lot of my friends have also done ketamine treatments. But I was fearful of what tripping would be like. I prefer to be in control—often to my detriment—and I was worried about what I might discover in my mind (as if I hadn’t already visited the worst, darkest corners of my brain more times than I can count 😅).

But after spending months researching and mentally preparing myself to try it, and with my anxiety and depression ramping up as a result of fruitless job hunting, I finally decided I had nothing to lose. Plus, the timing worked out that I already had a therapy appointment scheduled for the day after I planned to take the mushrooms, so I knew I would be able to debrief everything with my therapist.

I can honestly say the journey I went on that day was one of the best experiences of my life. I described it to my friends as being like thirty years of therapy condensed into eight hours. However, I’ll also add that part of the reason I believe my experience was so positive is that (1) I went in with specific intentions of what I wanted to get out of it, and (2) I’ve done so much therapy and self-work in the last decade that I was better mentally and emotionally prepared for what I might experience while tripping than I would have been, say, in my mid-twenties.

One of the most important insights I received on my trip was that I was going about my job search all wrong. It became clear that I’d let myself be swayed by my fear of what other people would think of me if I didn’t get a 40+-hour-per-week corporate job with benefits and retirement savings. I realized I’d been hearing the voice of my mom in my head saying that if I didn’t contribute a certain amount financially to the household or hold a certain type of job, I was “lazy” and “selfish”—things I don’t actually believe but are difficult to deprogram.

I also felt more confident after my trip that the writing and creating I do is a legitimate, meaningful pursuit, even if I never make much money from it. I was reminded of what I already knew deep down: that I’ve made a tangible difference in so many people’s lives over the last seven years of self-employment (and that difference cannot be adequately reflected in things like an HSA account or PTO). So much of the work I do and have done is not seen as valuable under capitalism, but that doesn’t mean it’s not valuable to my community.

After some intensive journaling and talking with my partner and my therapist post-trip, I concluded that I needed to stop applying for jobs that would lead to me being miserable and keep me from writing my novel and doing the freelance work I love. I decided to switch gears and look for something part-time doing work I could be proud of.

Lo and behold, right after my therapy appointment, my friend James texted me a job posting that I would have ignored if she’d sent it a couple of days prior. Not because the job wasn’t a great fit for me—it was a social media and website management position for an LGBTQ+ rights organization that perfectly matched my skills and interests—but because it was a part-time role without benefits. Luckily James sent it when they did, and I applied immediately.

Within a week and a half, I’d interviewed for and been offered the job. One week after that, I officially started (and I’m happy to report I love the job and I love my new coworkers). And one more week after that, we found our new rental home and signed a lease for May. Needless to say, the last six weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, and I’m so grateful things are finally looking up after struggling for such a long time.

Part of me can’t believe how close I got to taking a giant step backward in my life and career, but the other part of me knows just how hypnotic the siren song of societal expectation can be. When you’ve been told your whole life what makes for a “legitimate” vs “illegitimate” job, what kind of salary and benefits package is “respectable,” and that it’s better to pick one thing and stick with it than cobble together multiple pursuits and interests, it can be difficult to live outside those bounds. Especially considering financial constraints.

One of the crucial reasons I can make the career choices I’m making is because I have a partner who supports me in my decision and who has a stable job that can cover the lion’s share of our bills if needed. Even with that privilege, I was ready to sacrifice my happiness and artistry in the name of doing what I thought I was “supposed to.”

I’m hoping that this time the lesson is cemented.

Once we make it through our move and get settled in our new place, I plan to get into a more consistent routine with working on my novel to turn my dream of getting published into a reality. I’ve been working on it for a while now in fits and starts, and I feel the best I ever have about the story outline. So now it’s time to commit to doing the work of writing, writing, writing to bring the book to fruition. There’s no guarantee that I will be able to get the book traditionally published, and even if I do, actual publication would be several years away. Still, the thought of seeing my name on a book in the real world continues to drive me forward.

I’m thrilled that my new job will allow me the flexibility to keep writing my novel (and The Queer Agenda!), keep making content for social media, and keep freelancing in whatever ways bring me joy. I value getting to shape my days however I want to and being able to work on a variety of different projects, and I’m glad that won’t have to stop.

Thank you for seeing and supporting me. Thank you for respecting and valuing my choices and the courage it takes to show up here and deal with the people who don’t understand what it is I “do” or why it matters. Without the beautiful people who make up this platform, I wouldn’t have my new job and I wouldn’t have the power of choice in what comes next for me. 💖

Queerly yours,

Shohreh

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