Freedom Found

Dear Delyara, I finally left the job that was killing me slowly. It paid well enough to make me stay and drained me enough to forget who I was. Every Sunday night felt like grief. Every Monday morning felt like betrayal. I kept telling myself to be grateful because so many people wanted stable work. But stability without dignity is not success. The day I handed in my resignation, my hands were shaking so much I could barely hold the paper. I was terrified. Not of leaving, but of trusting myself. Now I earn less, but I breathe more. I sleep more. I laugh more. I feel like my life belongs to me again. That is success in a language no title ever taught me.