Undeclared
Embracing the Power of Being Undeclared:
A Journey from Uncertainty to Fulfillment
I craved the freedom and space that I knew being undeclared would bring
I just needed to BE for a while.
“ I’m all about shaking things up and exploring new horizons! Life’s too short to stick to one path, and I’ve learned that embracing change and uncertainty can lead to some incredible adventures.
I’m Taylor Davis!
Let’s dive into the excitement of discovering what really sparks your passion. If you’re in a phase of reinvention or feeling unsure, let’s connect and turn that uncertainty into your next big opportunity!”
There is a well meaning question that the adults in my life asked me when I was a teenager;
a question that I have vowed to never ask the teens in my life. Or, at least, I hope to never ask it in exactly the same way I was asked. I’m sure you can recall being asked this question too.
It’s a question that set me on the path to having a very limited perspective of what it meant to be a “successful adult”; a perspective I’ve been untangling for the past 20 years. It’s been a messy and tough untangling, like untangling the knotted skein of yarn I had to contend with when I discovered a love of knitting during one of my undeclared periods.
But just like that tangled skein of yarn ended in a beautiful, if imperfect, little baby sweater, the process of expanding my view on success has landed me in the beautiful space of being undeclared today.
The question: “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
It was clear that this question really meant,
“What will you do for a living when you’re an adult?”
The message I internalized was “you are your career”, rather than,
“how you earn an income is just one facet of who you are”.
And, back in the 90s, the assumption was that we would all grow up to have a singular career over the course of our professional lives. Nobody could have known how different things would be now.
At 41 years old, I can count on one hand the number of friends I have who have spent their entire professional lives thus far in one career. For so many of us, there have been detours, new paths, and periods of being both declared and undeclared.
And it’s felt scary at times because, while many of us millennials have had meandering paths and there’s strength in numbers, we’re doing it with no playbook. Our parents’ generation overwhelmingly chose a career and stuck with it until retirement.
So, when I made the decision to leave what I thought would be my “forever career” in my mid-20s, I was unknowingly priming the pump and creating a rough playbook for myself so I could do it again at 40 years old.
My answer to the question when I was asked:
“I want to be a teacher.”
The truth is, I didn’t really have a fire for any particular career path at the time. But I had been a summer camp counselor and thought I was pretty good at working with kids.
I was (and still am) a striver and was determined to meet and exceed all the expectations others had of me. Answering that question confidently was important, and once I’d said it, I had to make it happen.
Fresh out of college,
My husband (boyfriend at the time) and I found the courage to pause for a couple of years and keep everyone else’s expectations at arm’s length. Two winters spent in ski towns with summers working at summer camp were enough “messing around” though, and we returned to the place we grew up, bought a house, and I jumped into a teaching career, assuming I’d teach until retirement. I was declared and doing what I was supposed to do.
About 5 years later,
With a 1-year-old now in our family, I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t love teaching. The fact that my baby didn’t love being away from me in daycare helped me admit that I wanted a change too. Over the course of a few months we uprooted our lives, moving to a new state where my husband took a job running a summer camp and I was undeclared (aside from the important and full-time work of caring for my child).
The decision to make this big change happened after months of conversation, exploring the what-ifs, understanding how it would work financially, and getting ourselves to the place where we felt comfortable enough trusting it all to unfold the way it needed to.
But it was terrifying. And that first year of our new life was lonely and uncertain for me in many ways. I don’t think I felt at ease, excited, and curious about what this new undeclared status might open up for me at the time (like I currently do, newly undeclared again), but as I began to (very slowly and tentatively) pull on the threads of new interests over the next couple of years, a new path unfolded.
I spent 9 years working in the reproductive health space as a full spectrum doula, doula trainer, and childbirth educator doing work that was deeply aligned with my values and deeply fulfilling. In retrospect, my period of being undeclared during which I often felt lost, unsure, lonely, and worried, paved the way for me to do some of my greatest work.
I find myself now, at 41 years old, voluntarily undeclared.
I have spent the past 4 years striving and pushing myself to very high career aspirations. I was working in the reproductive health space still, but this time I was at a well-paying job at a health tech company, on a career path that I easily could have followed, climbing and achieving until retirement age.
And for most of those years, that was my plan. The striver in me was doing the thing. I was productive! I was earning promotions! I was valuable! As time went on though, my inner voice began whispering, “this is not aligned for you”. I was increasingly unhappy, spending less and less time with my 3 kids, husband, friends and family.
I was anxious throughout much of the day, every day, and losing sleep at night. But our family depended on my income, and the dopamine hit every time I felt successful at work was enough to keep me going for too long. Eventually, that inner voice became loud enough that I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Again, like back in my 20s, my husband and I began a months-long exploration of what it would look like for me to leave this job and set down this career path for now. Once we felt good about the plan, I left my job.
But this time, I had my past experience of being undeclared to guide me. While I was still scared, I also craved the freedom and space that I knew being undeclared would bring. I fully trusted that new doors would open and it was OK to have no idea where they would lead yet. I needed to NOT have an answer for the inevitable, “what’s next for you?” question.
I just needed to BE for a while.
When a mentor I deeply admire gave me the advice to “say no to everything for at least 90 days - and when you start feeling uncomfortable about it, sink deeper into it”, it was the confirmation I needed to fully embrace being undeclared. I literally answered the “what’s next for you” questions that everyone launched my way with, “I’m going to spend time with my family, and get back to cooking nourishing food and exercising regularly.”
The job I left had rendered me useless outside of my working hours. I had no energy for anything else and I needed to get back to who I was, caring for myself and connecting with my family. I’ve spent the past 4 months doing exactly that.
I often wish I could tell my younger self, at the outset of that transition, how beautiful it was going to be. But I also understand that I had to live the experience of being undeclared once with great fear and uncertainty in order to approach this next period of being undeclared with the excitement, contentment, and peace that I have.
And now, after these months of decompression, I’m beginning to pull on those new, interesting threads as I begin to say “yes” to small things that feel aligned, like writing this piece and collaborating with other homeschooling parents to build out additional programming for our teenagers that is going to open doors for them.
And I know that as I continue to reflect, write morning pages, and pause before saying “yes” or “no” to opportunities that arise, that I will find my way to contributing to my community and my family that feel right. I also know that, in the meantime, being present and showing up in my relationships with others and myself in a way that I feel proud of, is more than enough.
Each of us is so much more that what we do for a living and a life well lived allows space for it all.
So, when I talk to the teens in my life, I hope to ask questions like “What do you think you might do to earn a living? What is something new you’d like to try? How do you want to spend your time? What do you want your life to be and feel like? Who do you want to be?”
And if you’re undeclared right now, I hope you ask yourself these same questions. I hope you take some comfort in my story and trust that you can embrace this time with curiosity, start pulling on those tiny threads, and keep taking the next best step.
