Congratulations. If you’re reading this letter, that means you did it.
Press play for a celebratory song:
That’s right, girl, you did it. You threw in the towel. Disengaged. Knew when to fold ‘em. Cut bait. Cashed in your chips. You right-sized that state of affairs. You downsized yourself, right the f*ck out. Q-U-I-T.
Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Call it what you will, you f*ckin did it, and not a minute too soon. Reality is, the day you acquired this letter, it was lowercase-t-time-to-leave. It’s capital T time now, betch.
So here it is… your pep talk in an envelope.
Will it be easy? Doubt it. That’s partly why you stayed all this while. Way past the expiration date on that situashe.
Don’t beat yourself up for that, though. Sometimes ‘the old college try’ is a five-year plan. Sometimes it goes on to get its Master’s. The occasional PhD, even!
That doesn’t mean you have to keep your degree hanging on your wall. Sh*t, you can tear down that wall entirely!
You already made it through the tough part. Don’t look back; rearview mirrors were made for applying lipstick.
At least today they are.
Go forth; do big things.