2025: Year of the Brave

On Christmas Day of 2024, the word "brave" had a very strong presence in my orbit, so it became my 2025 theme word. So far, I think it is going well. I left a job that I had worked at for three months and moved across the country for. What happened?

For those who knew me in my pre-east coast era, I was grinding away at a mostly rewarding job, doing meaningful work. I left just shy of three years when I began to experience feelings of stuck-ness. That perhaps, maybe, this is where it ends. I did not foresee opportunities for advancement in my role. In a wildly understaffed department, I was honestly exhausted from sometimes running a clinic with one other awesome human in a windowless basement in one of the grittiest neighborhoods of San Francisco.

So, in typical Fion fashion, I had many unapologetic cry sessions on my therapist's couch, exploring self worth, identity outside of a career and the expansiveness of growth opportunities that await me. And after a month or so of mental health leave, a yoga teacher training in the Amazon jungle, an episode of cellulitis, suspected Lyme, some wonky weight loss, and several bags of IV fluids later, this Bay Area girl finally made her way to the east coast for what was seemingly a stellar new opportunity.

The initial excitement of starting a new role, in a new place, with new culture, and new rules quickly faded. I found myself faced with unexpected limitations in my clinical scope of practice. I went from autonomous practitioner to a student again. I took orders, wrote orders, asked folks what they thought about orders, and presented patient histories like it was my first day of clinical. While there were several notable moments of patient and family connection, the much anticipated learning and actual 'doing medicine' was subpar. Which, to say, it was clear that this was not going to help with career advancement.

My heart and body knew it before my mind could fully acknowledge it. I came home dissatisfied most days. After 12 hour shifts, I went on 6 mile runs in the dark in 30 degree weather in an attempt to burn off the surplus of energy that I was not utilizing at work. While I recognize that my former role had me utterly exhausted by the end of the day, and sometimes in bed at 7:45pm, the other side of coin of not feeling like I did anything meaningful and actively seeking ways to stimulate and exercise my mind outside of work was not going to do it for me either. About two months into the job, I found myself crying in stairwells, colleague's offices and during my post-work evening runs - these scenarios felt all too familiar. The exact things I had experienced in my last role that led up my resignation.

Running somewhere along the Charles River

I couldn't believe this was happening again, and so soon. What a moment of clarity it was though. I realized that two very different truths can co-exist: I love my work as a nurse practitioner, but I still feel alone and unseen at work. Recognizing this unfulfillment and lack of belonging in work had previously taken me years to identify and accept that this is something I need to professionally thrive. This time, it only took two months. With that, I quit on the spot, without a back-up plan and never looked back.

Sometimes, brave is something you might not want to do, but it might be something you need to do.

Brave is relinquishing the stories that I was told like my worth as a practitioner is nothing without attachment to an institution, that it will be infinitely more difficult to get hired with prolonged employment gaps on my resume, that the 'perfect' job does not exist, that I need to 'stick it out' because a loved one will be disappointed if I don't. Brave right now is taking note of what has been silenced in my life - those once inner voices, and stories that would intermittently make an appearance in a distant day dream, or pop up on a break during a long run, begging in quit whisper, 'fion, this is important, trust me, it needs to be shared'. And with that, here's to a brave 2025!