If you’re in your 20s and have been in at least one long-term relationship, chances are you’ve been in at least one toxic relationship. Chances are, things started out great... There was probably a honeymoon phase — a period of time when you thought, “This is it. I’ve finally found it.”
Everybody’s story is different, but typically at some point in every toxic relationship, the dark clouds begin to roll in. Signs show not only that the honeymoon phase is over, but that the charade is up. Things aren’t quite what they seemed.
The problem is, by now, you’ve really grown to love the person. You care about their well being. You share memories. You hold tight to those butterflies you had in the beginning — when everything was shiny and new. This is the point in the after school specials when things tend to turn violent. Someone becomes the aggressor and someone is the victim. In most relationships, though, there’s give and take on both sides. Harsh words are spoken. Your closest friends begin to notice. They say, “You’re not you.” Or “He’s not right for you.” You go on the defensive. Friendships are lost.
Or things go the other way... You confront your partner, maybe even pick a fight. You might take some time apart, or at least threaten to leave. Suddenly things start to get better! Flowers are purchased. Doors are opened. The honeymoon phase teases its way back in.
No matter which path you choose, in most cases, you become more dependent on your partner. We’ve all been there.
Ever heard the term “married to the job?” For the better part of a decade, I’ve dedicated my life to a toxic relationship, but not with a romantic partner. My toxic relationship is with my career.
I, too, had that honeymoon phase. I found myself thinking, “It can’t be this good” and “How could I have found my dream career at 22?”
Then the demands grew. The benchmark was continuously moved higher, targets forever out of reach. There were promises of promotions, pay raises, more opportunity piqued my interest, tantalizing incentives to stay, that things would get better.
Memories were made. Relationships were built. Continuous monetary incentives created financial dependence — a salary nobody else could give me, and therefore a lifestyle that was dependent on keeping this position.
Just like in most relatinoships, there were others to think of. “If I leave, what happens to X?” “If I say no, who else suffers?”
Like in any toxic relationship, there comes a breaking point. Suddenly, one or both of the parties looks in the mirror and sees a shadow of themselves. They search their contacts in their phone for a friend to reach out to, and wonder if anyone will bother to pick up the call.
Sooner or later, the cycle breaks. Someone finally has enough, making the tough decision even if the grass isn’t greener on the other side.
In a relationshp, this is the point when both parties agree to part ways, or invest the time to make it work.
In a career, though, there’s no discussion. A one sided conversation decides, “do I stay, or do I go?” What will happen if I leave? How will my life change? Can I afford to make this decision? Will I be me if I go?
Much like a real relationship, this decision requires a leap of faith, support from those close to you, and a decision that no matter the memories, enough is enough.
The question is...... when do you jump?
