No cookie cutter career; how I discovered a 9-5 job was not for me.
How I escaped the 9–5 to build a life aligned with my values and purpose.
A Life Beyond the 9–5
I remember vividly being fresh out of school with my Master’s degree in Clinical Psychology, excited to enter the workforce as a “real” professional. I was given an opportunity to work as a therapist with at-risk youth in a 9–5 job structure at my first salaried position. After only a few months, I began feeling an inkling to escape the four walls that surrounded me. This would be the first time, but not the last, that I would feel this way in the workplace.
I continued to change jobs throughout my twenties and early thirties, always with a relentless dissatisfaction at my workplace, but with no apparent reason for it.
Still, I had a restless appetite for more.
In my attempts to troubleshoot, I thought maybe it was my coworker relationships or company culture that I was dissatisfied with. But most likely, I thought the culprit was the emotionally taxing nature of working in community settings as a therapist.
Deep down, I secretly carried the thought that maybe I was not cut out to be a therapist, so I aimed for clinical jobs that were more administrative in nature.
It was always the same pattern: dissatisfaction, job change, contentment for six months, then the dull dissatisfaction would return.
Throughout the years, I experimented with these factors and tried to get to the bottom of my restlessness.
I always internalized it as a “me” issue. I assumed I must have a problem with adapting, resilience, or hardiness. Everyone else may have complained as I did, but they still appeared to be content with accepting the job structure we had been sold as “normal.” Was I just running away from the “hard” parts? Was I too sensitive?
I never stopped to question whether the problem wasn’t me at all, but the job structure itself.
It was not a problem of work ethic, motivation, or what some might call resilience. It was an empty restlessness and lack of purpose that I felt most within that structure. I felt trapped—an existential emptiness, a lack of purpose and meaning in my daily work. On paper, the work was supposed to be impactful and in service to others, but in practice, it felt like just another corporate institution collecting dollars and, in some ways, exploiting workers.
This is not a single agency or industry issue. There is a bottom line that, understandably, needs to be reached. However, when a worker feels disconnected from their life’s purpose and the original mission of the organization, the value of the work gets lost. Pressure affects everyone. Some level of dehumanization happens. People at all levels feel cut off from their values, as most are simply following orders. Autonomy disappears, productivity becomes the goal, and meaning is reduced to output.
I was told I was too sensitive, but this sensitivity is precisely what allowed me to see how deeply I needed my work to matter and to feel autonomy in my day.
After the pandemic, many jobs and industries shifted to remote work. I thought remote work might be a solution to my problem.
But I was wrong. I craved autonomy, freedom, and purpose, and even a full-time remote job could not provide it.
I tried the 9–5 in-office structure as a counselor. I tried field work with more flexibility and travel. I tried 9–5 administrative roles. I tried remote 9–5 work. None of them offered what I was longing for.
How could they?
The traffic and commute. The empty small talk with coworkers. The pointless meetings that could have been emails. The constant email management that creates the illusion of accomplishment. The coffee breaks used to pass the time. The occasional online shopping to get a dopamine hit in an otherwise lifeless and colorless environment of gray cubicles and fluorescent lights. The sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clicking. The highlight of the week being casual Fridays and wearing jeans.
All of it felt devoid of individuality and meaning.
Finally, I realized that the 9–5 job simply wasn’t a fit for me. Maybe I could create a life where Mondays were not dreaded and Fridays were not the end goal.
Maybe I could enjoy what I do most of the time and have the freedom to change my work setting as needed. I could use my strengths, structure my work around efficiency instead of hours, and pursue what recharges me instead of what drains me—all while staying aligned with my values.
I set out on this rough terrain not knowing if I would find what I was looking for, but it was worth trying.
There were so many reasons to stay where I was.
I debated whether I should quit the highest-paying job I had ever had. As a first-generation daughter of immigrants, reaching a position that paid six figures was “the dream.” What person in their right mind would give that up? Me.
I set out to create the kind of life and work I always wanted. I vowed to no longer follow a structure that had been prescribed to me. I would create one that was the right fit for me.
After I quit my job, I began working part-time and in 1099 positions to compensate for my lost income. After all, I still had mouths to feed and a new baby on the way. I focused on building my career around teaching, something I had discovered fueled me and aligned with my values and purpose. I continued to provide clinical care, supervision, and occasional auditing, while expanding my professional horizons.
My Work Schedule
Monday–Thursday
- Wake up around 6 a.m., read, meditate (if I am lucky)
- Take my older kids to school by 8 a.m.
- 8–9 a.m.: Spend extra time with my daughter before daycare
- 9–11 a.m.: Respond to emails / personal projects
- 11 a.m.–3 p.m.: Teach one or two classes
- 4 p.m.: Cook early dinner
- 5–6 p.m.: Client meetings
- 7 p.m.: Shower, off time, Netflix
Fridays
- Supervision meetings in the morning
- Pick up kids early from school
- Spend time with kids for the rest of the day
Weekends
- Family time and chores
Not every hour of my day feels exciting, but every day I feel like I have regained my autonomy. I choose my working hours, and I cancel the meetings I need to. Some days I work eight hours, other days four. Not every day looks the same, and that is how I prefer it.
I get to work with purpose and wake up slowly with my kids. I know that every meeting I attend and every task I complete is serving a greater purpose than simply staying busy until I clock out.
Even the “dreaded” tasks are entered into voluntarily because they serve a larger goal.
Of course, there are risks in this lifestyle. I do not have a steady, guaranteed salary. My income fluctuates, and there are times of financial drought. If I plan vacations, I do not have paid time off. But I still maintain a livable income without feeling like I am compromising part of my soul. These are risks I have chosen to manage, rather than the emptiness I used to carry.
This lifestyle is also not for everyone.
A 9–5 structure may feel empty or restrictive to me, but to others it works well. I know individuals who truly believe in the mission of their workplace and feel they are serving a greater purpose through their roles. That simply was not my experience.
Some may enjoy the stability of a 9–5 structure while finding meaning outside of work hours. That also works. No single position can provide everything for everyone; sometimes we must create a life that is most suitable for us.
The risk of not living a cookie-cutter life is that your “cookies” may not always turn out perfectly—but at least they are your own. And if you are lucky, you get to enjoy them too.
— Elizabeth Jauregui, LMFT
Adjunct Professor, Therapist, Coach, Writer
