The Grief to Anti-Girlboss Pipeline

On work, nervous systems and a slow life

Grief has cracked me open and forced me to re-imagine my entire life.

Every day is a mountain climb so I have no choice but to prioritize a calm nervous system, a peaceful existence, my relationships, and my sanity. I must throw away anything that robs me of my life force because my Dad is dead. And because life is too precarious to waste it in part-time misery.

Dad and I both work in tech. We would talk for hours and laugh about general work grievances. He told me he felt so proud to be able to guide me in this area of my life because THIS he knew well. Interviews and workplace politics. Relationships and vulnerability? Not so much.

I also watched Dad’s zest for life eek away from him as work consumed his world more and more.

Work was everything, then he died at 65. So what the fuck is it all for.

If he knew he only had 65 years would he have toiled this much for his job? Would he care about ARR and forecast accuracy or would he swim more in the lake? Would he take the dogs out in the early morning when the grass was dewy and then walk — not between meetings — but for hours on Goose Rocks beach?

It’s tricky because my Dad’s successful tech career was a positive component of his identity. He was proud of it because it was something to be proud of. I think many of us can relate to this feeling — We value the things we have built and we’re tired. And we’re not quite sure if our reward for the career is big enough. Let’s make it bigger.

Wasn’t it all supposed to be more beautiful than this? - Glennon Doyle

Capitalism (maybe corporate America, more specifically) is the ruthless, punitive God demanding we sacrifice our life force at its altar. It is greedy. Give me your every waking moment and your joy and I will give you … a creeping sadness. And a paycheck big enough to keep you going but small enough to keep you in a holding pattern forever. Very few will make enough money under my rule to realize real freedom for their families. The rest will never really be free. And then they die (woof, I know).

I am a grieving, heartbroken, bereft daughter angry about the drops of life my Dad did not get to taste. But I also knew these truths about our systems long before he died. His death just makes me wonder what the heck I’m going to do to make sure I get to taste every drop of life I possibly can.

Questions I’m asking myself these days:

• How can I keep my ambition but use it in a way that creates real freedom, both financially for my family and emotionally for me?

• How can I shape my career into something that fuels me and makes me feel more alive?

With all my love,

Katy