I embraced girlboss culture in my 20s. It didn't take long to realize I wanted out.

I thought making a lot of money and working hard would make me happy.

In my early 20s, I got great grades and finished my undergrad in three years.

By my mid-20s, I had finished my graduate degree in law while frequently working 70-hour weeks.

I leaned into the idea of being a girlboss, often working weekends or through my lunch, and focusing on making lots of money.

It was a habit I saw modeled by my parents.

It worked for them, and I thought it would work for me, until it didn’t.

At 26, I worked long days at my home desk after making “hard worker” and “responsible'”my identity for years.

I thought this was what an independent woman was: someone who worked constantly and optimized all of her time.

Sure, I was saving lots of money and networking, but I was often too tired on my day off to do anything.

I often chose to work on Saturdays and didn’t even have time to spend my hard-earned money.

Two things made me realize this wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle: I once told a friend I couldn’t take a 15-minute lunch break to call her, and another time I struggled to lift my full duffle bag for an upcoming trip after not working out for months.

I could have taken some time off to recover and come back, but then the cycle would have continued.

It helped that I spent my early 20s in Cameroon and Costa Rica, two places where work-life balance looks a lot different than it does in the US, and people live with their parents much longer.

Looking back on those years when I was truly happy helped me to question what I was focusing on in my life.

I didn’t want to simply recover after burning out.

I wanted to reject the premise that burnout was the price of being an ambitious woman.

In 2022, as the COVID restrictions were lifted more and a relationship I had been in ended, I decided to travel while working a few hours per week.

As a then single, childfree woman, no longer heading towards a career, I wondered what I’d replace these traditional markers of success with.

The answer turned out to be nothing.

I stopped trying to hustle toward something.

No job, boss, passion, or person was going to truly reward me for committing to 70-hour weeks.

Nothing was worth putting off a breakfast date with myself or an unplanned walk in the park, or that 15-minute phone call I told my friend I couldn’t take.

I decided to opt out of the competitive nature of the working world and instead focus on optimizing myself.

Five years later, I have a life my 26-year-old self would barely recognize.

I work substantially less, have built a career around writing and research for companies with values I admire, and have spent the past several years living and traveling in different countries.

I don’t own a car or a home, and I’m not chasing a traditional career ladder.

Instead of constantly asking what I should accomplish next, I have far more time for cooking, relationships, travel, and simply being alive.

One thing I did keep from that previous era of my life was my deep conviction that I, and all women, need to be financially independent.

I have stopped suggesting that my friends work through their lunch break; instead, we talk about ethical investing and the need to always have one’s own bank account.

The surprising part is that opting out didn’t ruin my career, and I didn’t feel the need to replace work with anything else.

I don’t think chasing a job title, a salary, or a full calendar would have made me feel secure.

I think I would have constantly felt the need to prove myself, which sounds exhausting to me now.

Instead, I have the independence I sought when I was younger.

It just took the form of letting go of the idea that I have to constantly prove my worth to myself.