I Quit My Full-Time Job to Chase My Dreams
A little terrifying, yes, but once I realized it was truly the only option, I went all in.
I’ve been speed painting since I was 18. But up until a few weeks ago, it was the thing I did on top of everything else: my side hustle, my weekend gig, the thing I squeezed in between Zoom calls and newsletter deadlines and late-night file exports.
Now it’s the thing I do. The only thing.
That’s right: I quit my full-time job to go all in on my dream.
For the past few years, I worked as the entire marketing department for a national nonprofit. And I don’t mean that figuratively - I mean, I was the whole team (lol). It had its perks: I worked from home, I could travel for gigs and take my laptop with me, and when I initially took the job, I genuinely believed in the mission.
But the longer I stayed, the more the work shifted away from what I was passionate about. And while my calendar stayed full - nonstop Zoom meetings, social content, email campaigns, board commitments, freelance design work, and oh yeah, traveling to paint live on stage - my energy started draining like a cracked phone battery.
I told myself I could keep doing it. I was doing it. But the whisper started. That low hum of intuition that says, hey… this isn’t it anymore.
Finally taking the leap to quit was a slow burn. I didn’t wake up one day and dramatically slam my laptop shut (although there were definitely days that I wanted to).
It was more like:
“Oh. I think I need to quit my job.”
And then immediately:
“Wait. Am I actually going to do that?”
I’m not reckless. I like knowing my bills are paid. I like health insurance. I like a regular rhythm. And yet, every time I sat with it, every sign the universe sent, every gut-check moment… it all pointed to the same conclusion.
This was the time. The only time.
I saw an Instagram post that asked:
If you were the main character in a movie, what would you be screaming at yourself to do right now?
And I was like… oh. QUIT YOUR JOB.
So I did. I took a breath, sent the email, and turned in my notice. And let me tell you - there’s never a perfect time. But the response I got from my team was filled with so much kindness. So much support. It made it clear I was leaving on good terms, with a legacy I could be proud of.
I didn’t leave without a parachute. A couple of freelance clients wanted to expand our work together at the perfect time. A part-time opportunity popped up that aligned with my current goals. And most importantly, I had set myself up for this moment. I’d been paying off debt, saving, investing. When the leap came, I wasn’t flying blind.
But it was still definitely a leap.
The first week “off” from work, I was in Little Rock judging a national pageant, fully booked and fully distracted. But now that I’m home and the calendar’s (mostly) cleared, the shift is starting to register. Just me, my studio, and a lot of open space to decide what comes next.
Now I’m catching up. Recalibrating. Asking myself: What do I want my days to look like now that I get to choose them?
And yeah, July is weird. I went from my busiest gig month in June to one single booking for July and August. In the past, that would’ve sent me spiraling. But this time, for some reason, I feel grounded. I told myself:
July can be a rest month.
Or a rebuilding month.
Or maybe something big is coming and I need to be available for it.
Or maybe… it’s all three.
Whatever it is, I’m exactly where I need to be.
For Anyone Standing on the Edge…
If you’re staring down your own dream and thinking, “I could never…,” I get it. But I also need you to know: it’s not about being ready in every way. It’s about figuring out what you do need to feel safe enough to jump.
For me, that was money stuff. Savings. Stability. Reminders from Jesse that I had done the work to build a safety net.
But it was also trust. In myself. In the universe. In the belief that when I go all in on my dream, the dream meets me halfway.
So if you’re stuck, ask yourself: What can I start doing now to make space for that leap later?
Because one day soon, you might realize the only option left… is to go.
And when you do, I’ll be cheering you on from center stage. Covered in paint. Living the dream.