On sabbatical

Taking a break from corporate product

I don’t know who I am anymore. 

The last decade of my life has been defined by product management. Endless back to back meetings, specs, Figma projects, 1:1s, alignment building, product reviews, dashboards, Slack announcements, self reviews, peer reviews. When I first started working in tech, I felt so excited about each opportunity. Getting my first real job offer was the validation that made all the blood, tears, all nighters, anxiety, and doubt about my place in computer science “worth it.” Writing my first spec felt so fulfilling, fleshing out the details of a kernel of an idea to make it “real.” Seeing my features in production felt like a high, the seed of an idea unfurling into something bigger.  Meeting executives like Sundar, who I had admired for so long, made me feel like I belonged. Like I had places to go. 

Now, the burning, bright orange flame of excitement has slowly simmered into a fledgling flicker. Everyday, I felt like I had to push aside the pit of dread in my stomach and wear a mask of “PM V,” putting on a performance of a product manager. When I wrapped up my day, I felt like I could finally put the mask down and become the “real” me, writing fiction, attending writing conferences, analyzing film/television, listening to the rejection journey of creatives, and letting my mind wander on walks. Shipping a feature that moved metrics felt like a relief rather than a win, a sign that I hadn’t totally failed or lost my touch. Emergence of technologies like generative AI made me feel more jaded than excited, having seen many cycles of bust and boom (remember web3?) Successfully navigating company politics and making my vision “come to life” felt like I had sold out, betrayed my values for the sake of corporate performative culture. And more than anything, my dreams about wanting to become a social impact founder that did good “at scale” felt like a false, dangerous dream that I no longer believed in (longer essay on why forthcoming). 

So, why was I here? 

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for the last few years. Sometimes I felt like I had more things to prove to myself, that I could “do the job.” I didn’t want to be another woman in tech who quit because things got too tough, the wounds from a thousand paper cuts too deep to heal. Sometimes I felt like it was a company fit issue, the promise of a new and maybe perfect environment a cure for all my woes. Sometimes, I felt like I didn’t have the financial runway to take the risk, or I was too scared about what I would tell people when I met them without product, or my parent’s reaction to their Stanford educated daughter taking a break to do something undefined. There were a million reasons to stay on the corporate path, even if I struggled to get out of bed every morning, or felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into an existentialist, dark, nihilist sinkhole where nothing I did mattered. 

It took my mother asking me if I was sure product was right for me and reading Paul Millerd’s Pathless Path for me to start asking the question: what was my new dream? Every job switch since 2020 felt like running away from the pit in my stomach rather than running towards something. But maybe it didn’t need to be that way. Perhaps I could finally run towards anew thing (or portfolio of things), finding a new way of working that satisfies my burgeoning creative interests and need for rest? 

Could I feel fulfilled again? 

I had also seen enough stories of people who switch careers and fall into the same issues that led to burnout from whatever industry they were in beforehand, because as Taylor Swift says, it's me, I’m the problem. The reason why tech was such a great fit (and why I stayed around longer than I should have) was because I was surrounded by ambitious people who had centered their whole identity on achievement and impact. In other words, I was surrounded by a bunch of mes. Not only that, but it took an achievement-oriented mindset to transition into and succeed in the industry. This mindset is a part of me. Leaving the corporate environment wasn’t going to magically change this. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find myself burnt out like this with my future endeavors. Things already seemed to be trending this way: I was already starting to feel burnt out with creative writing. 

If I really wanted to feel fulfilled and happy again, I would need to not just figure out a new career path, but a new relationship with my self worth. 

What the future looks like right now: hazy, exciting, aweinspiring, terrifying. Aka foggy Picchu :)

So… why am I on a sabbatical?

The simple answer for why I’m on a sabbatical is that I’m burnt out. 

The slightly more real answer is that corporate product, in its current instantiation, doesn’t align with my values. I no longer feel that I belong in the industry, that my desires, talents, and ethical backbone are fully utilized. 

The most real and complicated answer is that I feel like I’ve become a completely different person since I graduated in 2016, and need a career and relationship with myself that currently doesn’t fit a corporate product path/lifestyle. That being said, maybe things will change during the sabbatical. Perhaps the corporate product path was the right path for me, and I’ll come back to the industry, energized and with new intentions. But I want to give myself the space to figure it out rather than pigeonholing myself into the corporate path because it’s the only thing I’ve known. 

The response

When I shared my news to take a sabbatical with my coworkers, the most common response was that I was “brave” and “courageous” to take this step before I had big commitments like kids or mortgage. I appreciate the compliment, but it also makes me sad. Why is living a life that feels aligned with your values and who you are as an individual courageous? Shouldn’t it be normal? But I get that taking a sabbatical is a privilege, and not everyone has access to that privilege (which is frustrating) and even if they do, might not feel that they do (which is equally frustrating). To recognize both in the current society/culture, I guess, could be considered “brave” in that context. 

The second most common question I received was “so what are you going to do?” While I don’t have a succinct answer of everything I want to do, my intentions during this time (and what I want to get out of it) are very clear. I want to: 

• Find a schedule that helps me maintain my energy and allows me to balance structured work and unstructured serendipity. 

• Find other sources of self worth beyond achievement. My achievement oriented nature is a part of me, and fully abandoning it feels like becoming someone who I am not. But I also know my current relationship is not sustainable. So, I need to find a more sustainable relationship with achievement. 

• Articulate my sense of purpose, and a career path or portfolio of projects that are connected to my purpose, feel energizing, and challenge me while doubling down on my strengths. I want to do this by taking the first six months to explore all sorts of career options (soloproneurship, content creation, entertainment, full-time writer) before settling into a direction. 

The third most common question is how I feel. Right now, I feel grateful, excited, nervous, and scared. Pretty big mixed bag of emotions. But mostly gratitude, for all the support I’ve gotten so far. S/o to FTO community, my peers and leadership at Match Group, and sabbatical friends/mentors like Matt, Lachlan, Laila, Soundarya, Cissy, Nisreen, Devin, and Andy for their support. 

But an extremely special shout out to my fiance Avi and my parents. I know you don’t know where I will end up, and you’re scared for me. I’m scared for me too. But I appreciate all that you’ve done to make me feel supported and loved despite your fear. Thank you for believing in me. I don’t know where this journey will take me but I do know is that I will learn a thing or two along the way. And isn’t that what life is about?

PS- I plan to post a checkin on my sabbatical goals every quarter on this blog to hold myself accountable. If you’re interested, subscribe to follow along :) 

Thing of Note

Recap: This section is my way of bringing attention to a thing, person, or idea that’s meaningful/related to the mission of this newsletter. This week, I want to highlight Burnout by Emily and Amelia Negoski. 

As someone who’s struggled with burnout for years, I’ve read almost every single book on the subject and just generally not been impressed. Until I read Burnout. The book does an incredible job of breaking down really simple concepts (like how do we find meaning) into really actionable, science-backed ways. I also love the focus on taking some of these concepts and applying them to the lens of women (esp the Human Giver Syndrome, which disproportionately impacts women). I’ve tried a few of their recommended strategies (like a non-cringey way to practice gratitude, labeling my ‘madwoman’) and found it really helpful. Highly recommend giving it a read!

Thanks for Reading! 

I’m on a journey to create a blended career across the creative arts, tech, and business. This newsletter is my way of sharing my reflections, thoughts, and advice along the way. Here are some ways to support or further collaborate together! 

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