The story of a successful quitter

an autonomous decision, quitter shame syndrome, unwell for two weeks, 4th-time college dropout

I changed my publication name to ChildLike, it resonates. Ok moving on :)

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This is the story of a successful quitter but to tell it I must rewind to the beginning..

The successful quitter in her younger years, she had to be 4 or 5 here

Since I can remember, I’ve had a tendency to quit things that I did not like. Sure, I was a shy kid but being part only child worked to my advantage. It enabled me to think independently.

Quitting seemed like an autonomous decision. Why would one do something they are not keen to?

I had an aversion to playing sports. I was a Barbie’s, Bratz, and talking to myself kind of gal. Somehow I ended up playing basketball. Now this had to be my dad’s idea as I just told you who I was. There wasn’t a cell in my body that enjoyed basketball. I despised practice. I dread the games—a perfect recipe to quit.

When playing with my cousins in my grandma’s backyard, I had no problem abruptly stopping in the midst of it.

“I don’t want to play anymore”

I’d venture off to other endeavors.

My grandma’s back yard and the beautiful tree that blooms there

This was before life chewed me up and spit me out.

It wasn’t until external messages from the world of “don’t be a quitter” swiftly began to inundate my young mind. The notion of quitting anything encroached upon my once firm sense of self, instilling insecurity and uncertainty within me.

I began my journey of sucking it up and seeing things through until the end for the sake of not being labeled a quitter.

This marked the beginning of a turbulent relationship between my aspirations and other’s expectations of me. My entire twenties would be characterized by this constant struggle.

“What a shame, you never finish anything” If my mind was a radio then it was stuck on this channel.

The timeline that I have been unable to release, accept, or process is the one where I do pursue a degree. The one where I finish. The one where I don’t quit.

So I keep dipping my toe in the water and then I take my toe out.

Photo sourced from Share America

I realize I don’t want it enough but I am shameful for not finishing anything. So I put my toe back in. I force myself into a cycle. I am diagnosed with the quitter-shame syndrome.

Quitter shame syndrome is a cycle where you are so ashamed of being labeled a quitter by society’s standards that you do things that don’t add any sustenance to your life just to have pride about not quitting.

You see deciding it is okay to stop is the outlier, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

This cycle led me to question my reasoning for wanting to pursue a college degree again in the first place. “They” say that the third time is the charm but my luck is running out.

I can’t give you a concrete reason why except:

“Just in case, I want a career in academia”

Why would I want a career in academia?

To seem important.

What other reason could there be? I’d be a good teacher, of course, but I want to be a passer of information to those who seek it. So I thought. Coming to grips with reality, maybe I was in love with the idea of it.

Picture this, arriving to class 10 minutes late because I can, I’m the professor. Walking through the hallways with a bunch of graded papers until my favorite student decides to take the load off and lend a hand. Staying up all night with a pen tapping my lips while digesting the ideas of young fresh scholars.

Now, to be frank, I never envisioned myself in the medical field but by this time, I was pretty good at conforming. I was convinced that I had to go to school to get a real degree.

The journey started with a Nursing major at a community college.

I knew I didn’t like nursing in high school when I took a CNA college credit course and did rounds in nursing homes and hospitals.

So I switched my major after this Hispanic girl I was working with at a sports bar said she was going for Speech Pathology, that sounded cool enough.

The foundations of communications and providing rehabilitation to those who need it? Yes, sign me up.

Then I said a prayer that would change my life forever

“God, I don’t want to go to school next fall” By spring, my prayers were answered. I found an out. I left school to do self-discovery stuff as a flight attendant.

Years later, I started my online journey.

You know, to pick up where I left off years ago, determined to get a real degree.

Well, Speech Pathology got hard. My interest waned. I did not care about the anatomy of the throat or ear. So I dip my toe in, I take it out, I quit.

Next semester, I switched to psychology. This was the third-best major for me. I was sure of it.

Still communication but not the building blocks, solving problems, helping people, and reading minds? Yes, sign me up.

Turns out I didn’t like abnormal psychology THAT much. The DSM-5 was bullshit and the lines between disorders were often blurred.

I didn’t get it. So as usual, I dip my toe in, I take it out. I quit.

A year later, there was that itch to have a “just in case degree” again.

So I scratched it and changed my major to positive psychology.

Still psychology but now focusing on how people are well? Yes, sign me up.

I was on my way, you know enjoying the curriculum, except for a math class that almost took me out but I conquered it. I was proud, I did not quit. I even made the dean’s list.

“OK, keep going, don’t quit, won’t fail. I got this.”

Then there’s research methods, a class that I’m interested in developing skills in but the professor is shit.

She’s intolerable. She may be equipped with a doctorate but at the expense of what? her humanness. She communicates like a robot, leaving me more confused and with more questions than I started with.

So you know what’s next? I dip my toe in, I take it out. I QUIT.

Throughout the years, I’ve discovered the pattern. When the going gets rough, if it’s not worth my time and drains my energy I quit. I don’t underestimate the value of hard work but If it’s worth it for me, I stick it out.

People always say “You only fail if you quit”.

My problem with this saying is that it feels incomplete. No one ever says what happens next. Instead, we’ve painted the quitter to be a low-life, houseless person running aimlessly around the earth without a clue in the world.

While that version of the quitter is likely, what if this is not indeed the story of the quitter?

What if this is the story we’ve passed around for generations to keep people trapped in our expectations of who they should be?

What if the quitter is misunderstood all along and their brain works differently?

If we don’t start to ask these questions, we risk building a society of fragmented people, always taking direction from others, always undervaluing the gravity of making decisions that align with one’s innermost compass.

We become miserable people.

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I was unwell for a little over 2 weeks. This was the illness where you present as normal so you’re easily ignored. You try to express your grievance but you’re told to get back on “the horse”.

What horse? and why am I being forced to ride it?

This is the illness where the world around you keeps moving but you are frozen. The one where you wake up every day feeling fatigued. The one where your body no longer feels like your own. The one where you get behind the wheel of a car and imagine running it into a pole. The one where thinking causes anxiety.

A text I sent my sister when I discovered the root of my 2 week slump

“But I love life!!!! Why do I feel like this?”

This is the story of a successful quitter, the one who isn’t a low life, houseless, and running around the earth aimless.

She’s trialed and errored many things and that’s what makes her a tastemaker.

Her genius is different. It is often misunderstood and deemed unintelligent.

“You only fail if you quit”

“You only fail if you quit”

My lover drilled this in my head several times as if he was my coach at a track meet and the medal was ours for the taking. Moving forward, I hope he finds a new choice of words to uplift me.

Now here’s a personal acceptance speech from the successful quitter:

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“Thank you, Thank you I look forward to evolving into whatever I decide to do next, I no longer want the word quitter dangled in front of me like a witch at the stake. Sure there is such a thing called premature quitting, giving up before you give it a try. The girl in me always tried, my mom made sure of that. The woman in me still always tries. Quitting is an autonomous decision. I see you out there growing tired of your fears, and so am I. Maybe you should try adapting the successful quitter ideology sometime.”

and the audience yells BRAVA BRAVA, she gets a standing ovation.

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🌀Reflection Portal:
”It is very possible to pull on something that is long over due for quitting”. If you rely on your instincts, you will be able to distinguish between these things.

Contemplate your relationship to quitting. What comes up for you at the thought of you quitting something? How has this word been used against you? How has this word been used to empower you?

🎵Listening to: “Colours Of The Sunset” by Mndsgn.

📚Reading: I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy I actually just finished this read. I’ll be reviewing this book by the end of the week (hopefully) if you’re interested you can check that out here

🕸Feeling: I won’t say I’m happy but I’m not longer in the state I was in. Between March and April, I realize that I need to learn how to truly process how I feel. I tend to rush processing uncomfortable emotions so I can get back to getting high off sunshine and rainbows.

Happy solar eclipse in Aries, the one who never fails to finish what they start. You are my astrological big sister and I admire you deep<3

With love,

Tiana.

Get a taste of my previous post, it’s delicious🍉.