I Left My Corporate Job to Follow My Passion: Here’s 3 Reasons Why

Image: Jess Sofarnos

Image: Jess Sofarnos

One of my mum’s favourite stories to tell people about my childhood details how, despite her best efforts, I always wanted to dress up as someone else. Whether I was strolling to the shops or going to kindergarten, I put on the day’s costume, adopted a persona and stuck to it.

I grew up in one of those towns where everyone knows everyone, so a five minute trip to Coles always ended up as a 30 minute catch up with at least eight different people.

We’d bump into friends, neighbours and colleagues and the conversation would begin one of two ways.

Scenario 1:

“Hi Sue, hi Jess!”

I’d quickly tap Mum and whisper in her ear “I’m not Jess”.

Mum, always kind enough to play along, was then forced to correct said acquaintance that her 4-year-old had a temporary identity change. “Oh, this isn’t Jess – this is Cinderella.”

Scenario 2:

“Hi Sue!” Pause, glance at my outfit. “And who are we today?” I’d be so pleased. “I’m Snow White,” I’d share with a grin.

“Of course you are.”

Naturally, Mum and Dad enrolled me into performing arts as soon as they could.

I can only assume that they were hoping I’d save my dressing up for performing in class, and allow them — and others — to call me by my birth name, as opposed to the princess of the moment.

They were so supportive, and wanted to foster this highly imaginative and creative part of me in a space where it would not only be accepted, but flourish.

I trained intensively across all facets of the performing arts for 15 years. I went to a high school with a strong theater department on a performing arts scholarship. I spent school days in musical and play rehearsals and most nights at my dancing and singing school.

Performing arts is all I’ve ever known and loved, so it’s funny to think that I’ve spent the last 5 years putting it on the back burner to focus on a career in media.

Somewhere between childhood and adulthood we lose the lust for life that was second nature to us. It’s then sadly replaced by social constructs, expectations and “shoulds”.

Children are the most inquisitive and curious beings on earth, yet their sparkle is dampened so early on. They’re told told how to act, what to be and when to be it.

It’s during this limbo when we start listening. Maybe we should get a “normal” degree? A “sensible” job? Settle down because it’s “the done thing”. Somewhere along the way, so many of us give into society’s everlasting pressures and stop doing what we truly love.

This realisation hit me smack in the face after two years in the corporate world, experiencing the life I thought I wanted.

After a year of exploring what really made me happy, I saved my money, resigned from my job and took off to train in New York City at an acting school.

I was venturing into the unknown yet I knew that I was back on my intended path and purpose.

Taking a leap of faith like this, particularly in an industry as tumultuous as acting, is no easy decision. You’re flying away from monetary stability and guaranteed career projection, and yet, it feels so right.

Here are three of the (many) reasons why I decided to make my move from the corporate world to follow my passion:

Regret

It’s the most clichéd one in the book but it’s in the book for a reason – you don’t want to look back on your life and regret not doing the things you wanted because of fear of failure.

When I was 18, I went for an interview at NIDA and the first thing the admissions lady told me was “there’s a 99.9% chance that you’re not going to make it as an actor”.

Real inspiring stuff — but it’s the reality of choosing this kind of artistic path.

Yet once I began my role as a Senior Project Manager (aka the “safe” choice), I sat in my office — where I worked with incredible colleagues and clients — and just knew in my gut that I was meant to be somewhere else.

To me, there’s nothing worse than the idea of waking up with two kids and a husband and resenting them and my life because of a decision I was too afraid to make 15, 20 or 25 years earlier.

I really asked myself – what do I want to say and feel about my life when my time is up?

My first driving motivator was that I needed to know that I’d tried. Even if I’d tried and failed, it would still be better than not trying at all.

Control

As daunting as it is to turn your life upside down, there is something incredibly liberating about embracing the chaos and taking control of what you really want.

Yes, I truly did want to go from Project Manager to a more senior role. Yes, when I achieved that role I dreamt about bigger clients and bigger campaigns and a corporate card.

But when I really drowned out the white noise and listened to myself, I always knew I wanted to be an actor. So really, what was I waiting for?

In the beginning, I was too scared to resign due to a lack of control in this daunting industry. Will I ever get a role? Will a US agent sign me? Will I be waiting tables for the rest of my life?

Yet once the deed was done, I had more control of my future than I ever did before. Rather than waiting for something to come to me, or a sign to finally quit and try, I made the signs myself and just went for it.

Purpose

Pretending to be Belle and Snow White in the street was definitely not exclusive to me, but it serves as a reminder that acting is all I’ve ever wanted. Even as a child, when I didn’t know or understand why I wanted to dress up and play make-believe in the first place. I honestly loved my job in advertising. I loved the challenges and the people and the work, but when I went into myself deep enough I knew it didn’t truly fulfil me.

If a job is really bad or awful sometimes it’s easier to leave because you know it can only up from there, but when things are actually great, how do you know when to make the move?

My third motivating driver was to ask myself this – would I prefer to spend the rest of my life happy but at 70% and never know if I can reach my full potential? Or, do I want to be wholeheartedly happy and know I’m striving toward it?

The hardest part of this whole process is making the decision – so if this resonates with you, remember: there’s no time like the present and I can guarantee you won’t regret it.

Sarah Fritz