From Tech to Mental Health
Hi. I’m Jenn. I’m a child of immigrants, extroverted introvert, coffee lover, hiker, native San Franciscan, and resident of sunny San Diego.
I’m also a tech worker who became a therapist.
Since announcing my departure from tech, I’ve experienced a variety of reactions. Skepticism, inspiration, and curiosity, to name a few.
I’ve had people throughout my network reach out at one point or another, wanting to know the mechanics of my move, wondering — how does it feel to be on the other side? And in that question, is a bundle of other, smaller questions: What’s it like to start over? Was the meaning worth the sacrifices I made? Would I do it again, knowing what I know now?
In the beginning of my journey, I was on a high from how brave I felt — even though this move was years in the making. I was excited to have endless conversations with people who were on the precipice. I wanted to show them that there was an alternative to the “stuckness”, the “golden handcuffs”, the “quiet quitting” that is so prevalent in the tech world.
Looking back on these early days of leaving client accounts behind, and becoming a student again, I was driven by passion. I was "that person" who walked away from Barry’s workout classes, endless DoorDash deliveries, and all-expenses paid business trips. I was someone who went from endlessly venting about tech, to making the hard choice, and choosing a world of personal growth, introspection, and culture-shifting in the process. In other words, I didn’t just talk about getting out; I got out! —- and I wanted to tell everyone, “Hey! There’s an escape route over here!”
And people have greatly enjoyed the time I’ve contributed to their curiosity. They shared, in worried voices, about how they wanted to make the change - they were just worried about the cost of school. They shared fears about “not making as much” or “not being able to support the lifestyle” they grew used to. I took it on as a personal mission to reassure people that yes it was worth it, what else are you going to do with the time anyway? and your money goes where your values are.
Yet what I learned, was some people are ready to grow. Some people have the capacity or resources to jump. And some people just want to dip their toe into the pool of possibilities, even if they’re not really ready to swim.
Their challenges were resonant, because they were all things that were on my mind for years. I was terrified of leaving the tech world as I continued to advance in my career and increase my salary with every new job. As the only child of an immigrant single parent, I felt safe knowing I had financial security, given the struggles my mom endured to keep me healthy and educated. As a tech worker, I had an insane amount of privilege, living in San Francisco. I bought craft coffee on my way to work. I was usually going to whatever music festival was coming up. I could buy any experience I wanted. I had an impressive amount of dining points on my Chase Sapphire card. I bought most of my staple wardbrobe items from Aritzia. But most importantly, while the pandemic negatively impacted people’s employment, I was able to help my mom after her layoff (after 20 years of working at the University of California, which is such a terrible way to treat your dedicated and long-term employees). And with all of this, I still had a sizable savings account.
When I held all of these privileges in my mind, leaving tech behind, felt like leaving freedom behind.
But, I didn’t change my life overnight, and I think that’s the big piece that is missing from most people’s anxiety. For over 3 years, I took one step at a time, and if that step felt good - I continued onto the next step. For example, I worked with a financial planner to maximize my savings and financially plan for a “big change” (school or whatever else). I started experimenting with conservative stock portfolios. I took online Psychology classes through UC Berkeley Extension, to gauge my willingness to be a student again. I researched therapy programs that interested me, choosing Marriage & Family Therapy over Counseling because I wanted to work systemically. I co-founded a mental health employee resource group at my former company (which got featured in Forbes Magazine!), giving me a chance to explore more structured projects and leadership roles in mental health. I started therapy again, not for crisis intervention, but just as part of my ongoing routine.
All of these micro-decisions helped me build a case in my head, to listen to my heart. And with that, I took the leap and officially enrolled in the MFT program at the University of San Diego, walking onto their campus in September 2021.
I still had all my fears about losing certain types of freedom - but with the "doing", came new definitions of freedom. And no matter how much the choice has meant to me, I realize that I can't motivate or persuade anyone to take that leap if they're not ready (and it’s not my job to do so).
And I won't lie to you; this transition has been a long road, with unpredictable weather. I eat sardines with crackers for dinner, quite often. I’ve canceled on friends numerous times because I was more tired than I expected. I constantly negotiate with myself about whether I want to see someone I love, invest more time into treatment planning, or give myself time to rest. I put a lot of my clothes in bins, because opening a new bin every few months makes me feel like I’ve gone shopping. I’ve had anxiety about difficult cases. I’ve had insomnia when my schedule ramped up faster than I expected. I’ve had imposter syndrome when treating new diagnoses. I’ve been humbled by my learnings, over and over.
And also, I’ve also felt true meaning for the first time in my career, to the point where the word "career" feels hollow.
I’ve felt deep, inimitable joy. I’ve felt indescribable gratification, witnessing a breakthrough or a change of heart or a person's reconnection to themselves. This industry has its challenges, but they're challenges I'm interested in solving. Everything I ever researched or cared about on a personal level, has found its way into my work. I’ve come in with a strong corporate skillset, the result of so many people's time invested in me. I’ve felt connected to humanity, to the point of tears. I’ve felt re-energized by the sheer force of will in a person committed to improving their lives. I’ve felt more hopeful than ever, that so many of us are making the world a little more stable, a little more spacious, a little more welcoming. I've celebrated wins, victories, and dreams, strengthened by the experience of our lives being more than just problems.
And as I sit with these experiences, feeling more aware of my humanity than ever, I feel less of a need to sit with the concerns of capitalism, broken systems, and fear. I want to focus my precious, limited energy on my loved ones, my clients, and my own journey. I want to invest more time into the story I am writing, rather than convincing others to write theirs.
Every day is filled with variety and opportunity. I am a more evolved human being, and I have developed an inner compass through my training that has given me so much peace and wisdom about the human experience. This inner compass has calmed me, when I am impacted by ideas like "salary" and "security" almost every day; while I often listen to my colleagues' frustrations about what's broken in the therapy industry; while I listen to yet another person share that they're afraid to make the leap from corporate to mental health. And if I were to zoom out, beyond financial concerns or discomfort with change, I would emphasize that there is no transition in your life that will free you from the responsibility to cultivate your inner compass. Everything has the potential to be “hard” - nothing will save you from that - but you get to choose your version of hard. I chose a difficult career with a lot of hoops to jump through, but I’m no longer someone who is waiting for everything to magically come together, for opportunities to fall out of the sky and save me from malaise.
For this reason, I'm choosing to bookmark my experience in this article - because this is everything I’d normally say to you, in an hour-long phone call. I get you. I understand the fear. And I'm here to tell you that instead of getting rid of it, you can learn to live with it, and make decisions alongside it.
I've written some questions below, for anyone who finds themselves in that unique liminal space, torn between the security of a paycheck and the temptation of a new career. I encourage you to answer these questions for yourself, even if you have friends you consult, or loved ones whose advice can feel definite. Although these questions are specific to becoming a therapist, you could use them interchangeably for any career change you're curious about.
If you’d like more support, I offer paid consults, as well as coaching services. By collaborating with you, I can offer you the tips, tricks, and resources that I wish I’d had! And more importantly, you won’t have to navigate things alone.
Questions to consider
1) What do you know about therapy that feels important enough to even humor the idea of a career change?
2) What strengths or passions have you offered to the corporate space, that you’re feeling could translate to the mental health space?
3) What are some stories you might be holding about what it means to be a therapist? Where are these stories from? Do you believe them?
4) You’ve had the (money, lifestyle, financial stability) in this current life. What have those resources contributed to your life? What might they have minimized or subdued in your life?
5) If you feel connected to yourself currently, is there some part of that connection you fear will be lost in starting a new career?
6) If you don’t feel connected to yourself currently, what do you think a transition to mental health will do for that connection?
7) What do you know about different ways of being a therapist (MFT, LPCC, therapist/coach, therapist/consultant)? How would these options or different paths influence your decision making?
8) Are any parts of your life “held hostage” by your finances, that might be affected by starting a new career? How important are these areas for your decision-making? Are there any back-up options or resources that others would know about in this area?
9) Is there a future you’re assuming you’d have by starting over, or by becoming a therapist? How does this compare to previous assumptions you held about your future 1 year ago, 5 years ago, 10 years ago?
10) Who are some “tribal elders” you might consult with (financial planners, financial educators, therapists/consultants, therapists/coaches, current grad students) that might offer you different forms of knowledge to guide your decision-making?
I hope these questions are helpful in exploring your own relationship with work, meaning, and a possible transition to therapy. If you have additional questions, please feel free to reach ou.
Thank you for reading, and happy questioning! I hope you find the same peace and support that I did, as you live you way into your answers.