Hey friend,
Today's a really important day for me. It's my Berlinnaversary! Four years ago today, I landed in Berlin for the first time.
Now, if you're new here, I know what you're thinking: "But you live in London...?"
And to that, I say: Yes, you're correct.
But that's also not important. Because, friend, a Berlinnaversary is not just about Berlin.
It's about escaping a bad fit. It's about listening to your own instincts. It's about accepting that what's right for other people might not be right for you.
I'm sure you know what I mean.
Those of you who are longtime readers know what comes next. It's an excerpt of one of my earliest and most popular #ENTRYLEVELBOSS newsletters. I share it every year on this day, and I bet it will ring just as true today as it it did in summer 2015.
And here's what it says:
'Friends, today's email is not about spending more time in the outdoors. It's also not about becoming a musician or following your passion. It's simply about the permission to say that you are trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.
As some of you know more intimately than others, I started my career the normal, American way. I moved to San Francisco. I got an entry-level job with a professional-sounding company. I worked in a windowless office. I was f*cking miserable. Less than three days into moving into my apartment, I knew it was the wrong choice.
I started crying, daily. I drank way too much. I stopped sounding or thinking like myself. As they say, I was in a real bad way. And I kept getting the same well-meaning advice:
"It will be okay! You will get used to it. The real world isn't always fun. You should plan out fun weekends. You don't have to care this much, it's just your job. Jobs are part of life. You'll settle into it."
Every time I heard that, I felt more nauseous. More alone. Really alone. I thought, "What right do I have to want something different than this? Am I really being delusional? Unrealistic? Is it that I'm arrogant enough to think I'm so much more special than everybody else?"
It's hard to eloquently explain how rough that year was for me. I've now been in Berlin for quite a while, and I still get PTSD-like feelings about San Francisco from time to time. And by the end of my Bay Area stint, I was pumped full of anti-psychotics and anti-depressants that I started thinking, "Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe I can stay a while longer. What else would I do with my time?"
If I hadn't gotten fired (which is a story for another time) from Job #2, I would have... well, I would have settled in.
From what I hear, San Francisco is actually an okay-enough place. And mine certainly isn't a story about leaving the corporate world behind to go traveling and find yourself. I've grown my career in leaps and bounds since moving overseas. I'm also ambitious to a rather irrational level.
None of that means I needed to try to make it work in San Francisco.
When you are young in your career -- especially in America -- a lot of people will tell you you're making too big a deal out of things. That the real world is not like college, and that you can't just have fun all the time.
But there is a big, fat difference between a transitional period and a straight-up bad fit. And baby, nothing in the world will make it right when you're dealing with a bad fit.
I honestly hope most have you have stopped reading by now, and that nothing I've said today applies to you. That you believe this week's email was a bit of a bust.
But, my darling, you at the back, the one nodding along and still reading... I believe you. I know that feeling. The one that burns a hole in your throat, and down in your gut. You are in the wrong city, the wrong job, the wrong company, the wrong relationship. I believe you, and I give you permission to bounce out the spot immediately.
Because, at the end of the day, that's the best career advice I can try to give you: you get to choose. You get to make the rules, and you get to pick out all the toppings in this create-your-own-ice-cream-sundae that we call life. And once you decide where you're headed, I'll probably still be here. Helping you write the emails to make it all happen.'
Big love,
xxA