Finding Your Breaking Point

This phrase echoes the iconic moment in The Hunger Games when Katniss volunteers to replace her sister in a deadly competition. In the early days of the pandemic, our employees could opt for furlough, maintaining health benefits but forgoing pay. But now, it’s all hands on deck—no time off available, and no one can step back.

I excel at my job, working with people I appreciate, and it pays well—a career I once envisioned pursuing for years. Yet, it’s not my dream.

This is my second career, one I stumbled into after burning out in the non-profit sector. My true aspiration is to write novels, something I pursued on the side, hoping for the day I could transition into writing full-time without financial concerns. It seemed possible when I was 21 and just out of college.

Now at 34, I find myself no closer to that goal. My computer is cluttered with unfinished manuscripts, most initiated during NaNoWriMo, with a few reaching the climax but none refined enough for publication.

And suddenly, I wonder: what if I truly volunteered as tribute? While the metaphor falters—there's no one to replace, and my company values my contributions—it carries Katniss’s bold resolve. No one expected her to take that step, and it seems no one anticipates me leaving either.

Leaving the Comfort Zone

I imagine the life I could lead if I weren't constantly patching a supply chain riddled with issues. I would finally read as a writer should. How refreshing it would be to finish long-delayed revisions and actually share my work with the world, even if publication doesn’t come my way. At least I would know I tried and could release my regrets.

Change is daunting for me. My personality assessments consistently reflect this. I’m the type to dig my heels in and endure discomfort. The word "quit" sends shivers down my spine, and I often accept that “it is what it is” instead of stepping back and realizing I can break free. But the truth is, my work doesn’t own me; I’m not bound by a vow to stay at my desk indefinitely.

Yet, when I finally reach my breaking point and recognize the need for change, it’s as if a switch flips. I leap from one decision to another without hesitation, refusing to look back.

Flipping the Switch

Despite the chaos, by the end of that phone call, I felt a strong desire to leave my position. There were numerous factors to consider—finances, logistics, informing my parents, my boss, and everyone relying on me.

Perhaps this is where you hesitate. You know you need a change and may even have an idea of what it entails, but the leap seems overwhelming. The gap feels too wide, and the risks loom large.

I don’t wish to diminish the importance of logistics; I had to sort those out, and so do you. Yet, every time I claimed I couldn’t do something “because…” it often masked my fear or my comfort in the status quo. It’s easier to attribute inaction to being busy or broke than to confront the underlying fear.

Initially, I didn’t dwell on logistics. Instead, I envisioned what my life could be and fell so in love with that vision that retreating became impossible.

The Catalyst for Change

What transformed an ordinary conversation into a pivotal moment in my life? In storytelling, there’s often an inciting incident that forever alters the hero's path—this is the catalyst that propels them into the essence of the plot, growth, and change. After this moment, there’s no going back to the way things were. Consider Harry receiving his Hogwarts letter or Katniss volunteering.

That discussion was my catalyst. A lot of groundwork had led me to that point, highlighting the urgent need to rewrite my life and embrace new beginnings.

In most narratives, the setup only occupies the first 10% of the story. Where characters begin is rarely the focus; it’s where they end up that captivates readers.

Don't Stay Stuck in the Setup Forever

Yet, I had lingered in the setup phase for 34 years. Given that I don’t expect to live to 340, that’s far too long. Regardless of your age, if anything I’ve shared resonates, you may be stuck in your own setup phase, at least in some area of your life.

If my tale were a thriller—or a young adult space saga, reminiscent of my current writing project—this revelation might seem mundane. But in the intricate exploration of a millennial’s quest for purpose, it feels fitting. My aspiration is to write young adult fiction, and why not allow that ambition to inspire me?

What’s your catalyst? Perhaps it’s yet to arrive, or you might be in the "debate" phase—more on that later. You could be overlooking catalysts daily.

In fiction, the catalyst typically befalls the hero without their control; significant choices come later. I plan to explore the theme of “rewriting your life,” but the reality is your life is not a story written for you. You must craft your narrative and live it. You need not wait for change to come; too often, we hope for transformation without recognizing that we can—and should—be the change.

Until that moment, my life had been a series of neglected catalysts—some I’ll recount, others forgotten. My hope for you is not to let your next catalyst slip by unnoticed. Start envisioning the life you desire instead of dreading your current circumstances.

When the moment arrives, I hope you’re prepared to volunteer.

In the coming months, I’ll share more insights from my journey to rewrite my life while revising my novel and launching my freelance writing career. If you’re ready to become the hero of your own story, I would love to hear about your aspirations, your catalysts, and what may be holding you back.