11:59

The following story was written October 25, 2022

Not I’m finna tell yall all my business… But, here goes nothing.

I have tried to write this story at least 3 times by now, going back and forth on what to say and what not to say. My perspective has changed from one mindset to another. And neither my mind nor heart want to face reality.

But the truth is I quit my job 2 months ago, with nothing lined up. And it’s taking everything in me not to call myself irresponsible or stupid or a bum (like I’ve been doing for the past few weeks).

I’ve questioned how honest I want to be about my last job, the one I quit. Do I talk about the lack of training I received in detail, do I talk about how I only wanted this job because of my bruised ego from the last one, or do I talk about how as the only black female manager I put an enormous amount of added pressure on myself to be perfect (resulting in me feeling overwhelmed).

I’m not sure, I’m still not sure. I am just typing as I go. I do know however, that God makes no mistakes, and for whatever reason I was meant to be at that job for all of 4 months. Just like I was meant to get up and write this story. It’s time I get this up off of me so I can receive what’s coming next. So when I felt the deep inclination to write this this morning, I knew I couldn’t ignore it.

Disclaimer I would never get on Beyonce’s internet and trash a job I was once excited about. This same job that I left, paid me on time, every time. This same job that I left, flew me and all 300 of it’s employees out for a retreat with all expenses paid. And this same job is part of the reason I was able to relocate to Georgia. So no, this won’t be a bashing session.

But at the same time, this job has made me feel the lowest I’ve ever felt professionally. Two degreed, certifications out the wah-zoo, Host of The Grown--ish After Show who interviewed Yara, Jalyssa was at this job feeling all kinds of dumb.

Dumb for not picking up on things quickly, dumb for not coming in and being a pro, dumb for taking three hours to work on something and still getting it wrong. I had never felt so dumb at a job before. So unequipped, so low.

Unfortunately, I put a lot of care into my professional life. Probably too much, but it’s the one part of my life I knew (or thought) could never let me down. Friends turning into associates? I could deal with that. Lovers turned into assholes, no sweat just block em. But work? My career? That not going well was something I couldn't even fathom. Because I’m me, Jalyssa T. Woodall, and if I can’t excel at nothing I can excel at work (or stay up working late in an effort to).

But this situation was different, it was still marketing but a different type of marketing. A no creative, no graphics, all deals and reports marketing. I don’t want to get too specific, but that’s the only way you’ll fully understand the story…

So boom: I have been in digital marketing since 2016, doing everything from blogging, web design (which I have a degree in), graphic design (which I have a degree in), social media (which I have a self-proclaimed degree in), email marketing (which I have certifications in), search engine optimization (which I have certifications in), video editing, podcast editing… to name a few.

But after being a specialist at my last two jobs, I wanted to be a manager. It only made sense, plus I’d be damn good at it. I had an intern who I managed before and did a great job empowering him, helping build his confidence, and challenging him to get out of his own way. I had received a great review resulting in a great raise, and my last job (let’s call them Hate 49 Cinema) told me to keep it up and next review I’ll be a manager. I was my boss’ right hand woman, I over-extended myself like I’ve never done before. I was humble, I was actively learning about different parts of marketing because I was truly interested, I let them call me Jay because they acted like pronouncing Jalyssa was the hardest thing in the world (even though I was there for over 2 years). And I let them sell me a dream… because after all of that, Hate 49 Cinema did not make me a manager. After a year of working the hardest I’d ever worked at a job, I got the worst review I’d ever received and a raise so small I could barely tell the difference in my checks. (Not to mention, they were “hiring” someone under me to take the load off my plate…. No one ever came).

The amount of shitty-ness I felt after all of that was irreconcilable. And sweet, humble, only black girl in the company who didn’t want to ruffle any feathers let them have it during my exit interview. I wasn’t cussing or acting belligerent, because I didn’t want to ruin it for the next black person (that’s if they hire black again, I was the first I’m sure). But I had to let them know when and where they had me messed up in my special nice-sty (nice and nasty) kind of way.

And it felt great giving them my 2 weeks notice. Cause fuck they thought this was?

And the new job sounded great: completely remote, unlimited PTO, way bigger bag (balling!) and a new industry: affiliate marketing.

Affiliate marketing is when a brand pays a partner to promote their product or service. It’s basically influencer marketing but with companies instead of individual people. 

I felt this would be a great opportunity because 1) I could learn another side of marketing and add it to my wheelhouse. 2) I’ve been on the receiving end of affiliate marketing, it had been 4 years since I’d been getting free items from Wayfair every month. And 3) I’d have the title I wanted: Manager.

Well account manager, to be exact. And as an account manager I was responsible for coordinating deals and reports. Essentially, I was the middleman. 

So say for example Walmart wants Vegan-food enthusiast Tabitha Brown to promote their new line of pots and pans. I would coordinate with Walmart on how much they’re willing to pay her, what their goals are, if there are any sales coming up, etc. Then I would go to Tabitha, hear if she has any objections, provide her with talking points, a promo code, then boom, we’ve got a deal.

Real “blah” if you ask me. But I was a manager, and the bag was big. Biggest bag I’d ever received, so even though there wasn’t a lick of creativity involved in this, I went with it.

Well, in my Momma’s voice, “you can only fake something for so long.” And my interest in affiliate marketing, the manager title, and the bigger bag soon faded once I was hit with the truth about what I had done.

I went and got this account manager job to prove to myself that I could be a manager, and the last job who gave me that crappy review.

But I was miserable, it was so much busy work and learning about accounts, and numbers, and percentages, and absolutely no creativity. It was a complete 180 from my last job, I wasn’t managing projects or people, I was managing accounts. Four at that, and I was set to manage 7 by my six month mark. It had only been two months since I started, I didn’t feel well equipped, I didn’t feel inspired, I didn’t feel like I was doing a good job at all. And then the anxiety set in.

Swim Good

Picture yourself surrounded by a body of water, whether a lake, the ocean, or a  swimming pool. Then picture the water being at your mouth…

Thankfully, you can breathe out your nose so you’re pushing through. But with my pool, the water was right below my nose, so anytime I went to breathe I’d suck up water with me. Causing me to gag, causing me to freak out, causing me to feel sick…

I can remember dreading Sunday nights because I knew I had work in the morning. I can remember being scared to open my computer, I didn’t want to see an email from my Director saying what I had done wrong (again), I didn’t want to see any more requests from my clients, and I definitely didn’t want to see that “lucky me” was about to get another account.

I didn’t want to see anything, feel anything, or deal with anything. Including life.

I’m going to leave out the gruesome details of the thoughts I had in an effort not to trigger anyone, or give anyone struggling with their mental health any ideas. But things were dark and in that darkness I realized I needed to quit that job.

So I did. No two-week notice, no fuss, I was just honest about how I was feeling and how I was struggling. HR was shocked, because I always seemed so professional and upbeat. My director? Not so much. He mentioned how I seemed unhappy for weeks, but appreciated the fact that I went to him and other managers for tips prior to. And admitted that this job may just not be the best fit for me… butthole.

So I leave, quick, fast and in a hurry. So fast that my last check was for only one week instead of two…

Bills Gonna Bill

Let me provide some more context here: I just moved to Atlanta 3 weeks before I officially quit my job. I had just paid over 8 stacks to move my items down and secure my apartment. My new apartment was more expensive than my last apartment in Chicago, I was used to this bigger bag and now I don’t have one at all.

So to say I was beating my own ass internally was an understatement. I felt soooooo irresponsible. Not me, goody-two-shoes Jalyssa out here with no job or income. Not went straight from undergrad to grad school because it was the smart thing to do, Jalyssa. Not always paid her tithes to the church even when I wasn’t making much at all Jalyssa, out here with no job or income.

It was giving off brand, it was giving shame, it was giving embarrassing.

So I didn’t tell anyone. Not like that was something I wanted to broadcast anyway. I’d rather keep all embarrassing things to myself. I didn’t even tell my therapist. She had recently expressed how proud she was of me for accomplishing every goal I set for myself. I had gotten a new job, left an on-again-off again relationship (foreal this time), and moved out of Chicago. So the embarrassed me didn’t tell her (even though we talked once a week).

But eventually, I did tell people I felt “safe” with. And when I say safe I mean safe with my feelings, my vulnerability. Safe that what I say will stay between us. And they know who they are. 

Faith-Minded Individuals

This experience has taught me the importance of having faith-minded people in your corner. I took a huge leap of faith quitting my job with nothing lined up, and it was hard enough for me to get out of bed without beating myself up first. So I needed those I talked to on the daily to be just as, if not more optimistic than me.

Some were, reminding me of the smart cookie I am. And that God has looked out for me time and time again, so why would he stop not? 

Others not so much, questioning how many job applications I had filled out and demanding that I needed to do 50 more of that amount a day to hear back.

But the real struggle was me and my head…

So far in this story I’ve probably called myself “dumb” and “irresponsible” a good 10 times. So you can only imagine how many times I’ve said it in my head throughout this entire experience. 

Did I need a job? Yes. Were funds running low, hell yes. Was this completely off-brand for me? YES. But beating myself up made things even worse. It affected my worth, my confidence, and made me feel like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. I knew I’d get a job eventually but in the meantime all I had were my thoughts, and with my thoughts I had two choices: keep worrying, keep feeling anxious, keep beating myself up, OR enjoy this “break” and have faith that things will work out.

Now initially, I was doing both. Having faith, but when those moments of doubt came up let them take over. And to my defense, rightfully so. I had always been responsible with my bills, so to see emails coming through talking about payment due dates, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.

But ironically, somehow some way, nothing ever got cut off. Nothing got disconnected. If anything, I was blessed to pay my rent two months up and everything else would get paid if I randomly got money. Which I did! I’d randomly wake up to money from my Mom or my sister-ship Gabbs. I got a refund from Frontier right on time (they stay canceling people's flights), and I even got a credit with my Verizon bill. Somehow, some way, things were working out, and I knew that ‘somehow’ was God.

Even in the Darkest Hour

I’m telling a lot right now, divulging details I can’t even believe I feel comfortable putting on the internet. Reliving moments I’ve tried to bury deep in my file cabinet brain. But it doesn’t compare to the deep, sad, and hopeful things I’ve said to God. 

He knows the full extent: the dark thoughts, the crazy ideas, my hopes and dreams. And He has sustained me during this time. He’s put me on people’s hearts to randomly send me money. He’s put me on recruiter’s minds to schedule interviews, and He’s made a way out of no way for me to still be alive.

So do I think I’ll get another job? Absolutely. Do I think all of my bills will be paid? Absolutely. Do I think this will soon be a thing of the past and I’ll stop putting so much pressure on myself when it comes to work. Yes! But in the meantime, I have to keep the faith.

Fact about me, I love looking up definitions of words even if I already know em. And the definition of faith is: complete trust or confidence in someone or something. However my personal definition is: remembering what God has done before and knowing He can do it again. 

God was the reason I got the last job, and He’ll be the reason I get a new one. God was the reason I was able to interview thee Yara Shahidi for The Grown-ish After Show, and He’ll be the reason for my next opportunity. God is the reason I started this blog, and He’ll be the reason I’m successful in it. 

In conclusion, I have faith in God and that He will work things out for me. In a twisted way, I think I needed to go through all of this. I absolutely needed to pull back when it comes to work. Of course I am going to continue to do a good job, but the amount of pressure I put on myself professionally is insane. 

I needed the break. I needed the time to get myself and my new place together. And I needed time to sit with myself and figure out how I got here. 

I’m not sure when my new job will come. My rent is paid for October but after that I will need it to be paid again. Progressive is threatening to cancel my car insurance, and my poor credit cards – chile who knows when they finna get they money. Lol.

But I have faith that things will work out. I once read that God is an 11:59 kind of God. Meaning He will swoop in right when you think time is running out and save the day. Building one’s faith all up until then, waiting on us to come directly to Him and lean on Him for his help and guidance.

Well God it’s almost 11:59 and I’m waiting on You. In the meantime, I’ll keep praying, believing, and listening to my spiritual self-help book. I’ll keep confiding in those faith-minded people you’ve placed in my life, I’ll keep going out in nature to clear my mind and spend time with you. And I’ll keep speaking those things as if they were: I will get a new opportunity, I will get a job, and I will be able to pay my bills and more.

Til then, keep me in your prayers as I go through this faith walk (and let me know if you know anybody hiring).

Til next time, peace.

Jalyssa DoubleU.