Freedom of Voice

Two and a half months ago, I took what some are politely calling an early retirement. I even adopted that phrase because it was easier than saying, "I quit." I was ashamed to be a quitter, to leave a position that I worked hard for, that many would love to have. It paid well, it was fairly flexible, and I loved many of the people I worked with.  It took two and a half months for me to finally be able to say this: "Hi, I'm Annmarie, and I'm a quitter."  Where is the shame in letting go of things that at best don't serve you and at worst are making you ill?  I had to ask myself that question in the months leading up to penning my resignation letter and for the months after I handed my keys and badge over. It took months for the answer to come: There is no shame in letting go of things that don't serve you and are making you ill.  Then came the questions:  What are you going to do now? What have you been up to since you left?  What do you do with all th...

10 years ago, we upgraded John's original gold wedding band to a platinum band to match the ring he gifted me on our 15th anniversary. I wanted to make it special, so I racked my brain for something meaningful to engrave on the inside as a surprise.  I went through song lyrics from our favorite bands and wedding song: "One." Meh. "Here and Now." Meh. Admittedly, I don't remember the rest, and if they were that unmemorable, I'm really glad I didn't have any of them etched on a ring.  I don't know what made me think of it, but the idea of marriage as serving a life sentence came to me. Just to be clear: I don't think of my marriage as a prison, but it seems to be a popular standing joke.  It hit me: 20 to life. Meaningful, clever (I think),  and just the right amount of my brand of snarky. I thought it may be a risky move--if he hated it, no one else would see it, but he would know it was there. I decided to take my chances.  He loved it. So di...