The Invisible Black Woman

A job that robs your peace today is one you should exit—sooner, not later.

That’s today’s BlueNote. And trust me, this ain’t just something I pulled out of thin air like, “Oh, this sounds cute, let me say it.” Nah, this one comes from deep experience. Real deep. The kind of experience that’ll have you looking at yourself in the mirror, wondering how you let yourself stay so long in a place that had you ready to throw your laptop out the window every other Tuesday.

Because listen—if your job is snatching your peace now, like today, like you’re waking up on a random Sunday, or every Sunday, and your first thought is, Ugh, tomorrow… another day of this nonsense?—you already know what time it is. The sooner you find that exit, the better.

I’m not just talking out the side of my neck here; I’ve lived this life. I’ve stayed in jobs that had no business still having me—jobs that drained me so thoroughly that by the end of the day, all I had energy for was staring at the ceiling like, Is this it? Is this what I signed up for?

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. But I stayed.

Because the gag is, sometimes we know we need to leave, but life gets in the way. Bills gotta get paid, health insurance ain’t free, and let’s be real: we get comfortable. Comfortable in the chaos, comfortable in the dysfunction, comfortable in the fact that we’re not too too comfortable but hey, at least the check clears, right?

But lemme take y’all back to one of the worst times I let a job rob me of every ounce of joy I had left (before this last one—LOL). I was working at this big company, shiny job title, shiny office, shiny everything on paper. It was the kind of job that made people say, “I see you, miss thang!” And from the outside, I guess I was. But on the inside? Babyyyyy, I was straight-up miserable.

And it didn’t happen overnight. These things never do. It was like a slow erosion of my soul, day by day. At first, it’s all good—getting my work done, high-fiving myself like, Look at me, adulting! But then… the little things start creeping in. You know the vibes. You get that first shady email from your boss, CC’ing everyone and they mama, acting like you missed the most crucial deadline of the year when, in reality, you were two minutes late on an update. Or you start noticing that one coworker who always wants to one-up you in meetings like, “Well, actually…” *sighs in deepest of eyerolls*

And the microaggressions? Don’t even get me started. I could write a whole book on how they love to use phrases like “tone it down” or “you’re too direct.” Like, no ma’am, you just can’t handle the fact that I’m not out here sugarcoating every little thing. But, I digress.

So yeah, it was starting to add up. The shady behavior, the nonstop emails, the constant need to prove myself. It was death by a thousand cuts, and after a while, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. But I did what we all do—I pushed through. Why? Because you’re not supposed to quit, right? “Toughen up, push through, rise above”—all that nonsense they love to feed us, especially Black women. They love telling us to keep our heads down and just keep working. Like, oh, we don’t already do that. Every. Damn. Day.

But let me tell you, there comes a point where you just can’t anymore. You physically, emotionally, and spiritually can’t. And I reached that point when my boss—bless their petty little soul—decided to show their true colors during one random team meeting. I was presenting a project I had spent weeks on, and in front of everyone, this person ripped it to shreds. Not constructive criticism, no. It was that kind of humiliating teardown that makes you sit there wondering if you’re even in the right career.

I went back to my desk, sat down, and stared at my screen for what felt like an eternity. And something in me clicked. Like, nah, I’m not doing this anymore. I literally opened a new document, typed up my resignation letter right there, and sent it before I could talk myself out of it. Dramatic? Maybe. But trust me, it was necessary.

Yes, I have resigned on the spot more than once.

The second I hit send, peace flooded my soul like somebody opened a window in a hot room. It was that instant. All the stress, the tension, the anxiety that had been living rent-free in my body for months—gone. And you know what? The unknown didn’t scare me anymore. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have another job lined up. The peace I felt in that moment was worth everything.

Now, don’t get it twisted. I’m not saying we should all just up and quit without a backup plan. I get it. This economy? Trifling. Rent due? Every month. But what I am saying is, start paying attention to your spirit. How do you really feel every day? Are you dreading work? Are you snapping at your partner for no reason? Are you exhausted before you even get out of bed? That’s not just burnout. That’s your soul telling you this job is robbing you, and it’s time to plan your exit.

Trust me, I know it’s not easy. It’s never easy. And if you’re a Black woman in corporate America? It’s a whole different kind of calculus. We’re already told we have to work twice as hard, be twice as nice, stay twice as late just to get half the credit. So when you realize the environment you’re in is toxic? Yeah, it’s a whole thing.

But here’s what I’ve learned, the hard way: nothing—and I mean nothing—is worth your peace of mind. That job that’s got you losing sleep? That’s got you second-guessing yourself? That’s got you feeling small and drained and anxious every damn day? It’s not worth it.

You deserve better. You deserve a job that doesn’t have you spiraling every Sunday. You deserve a workplace that values your contributions without making you feel like you’re a walking Black girl magic cliché just for showing up. You deserve to be somewhere that lets you thrive—not just survive.

And I know leaving is scary. Especially when it’s the job that pays your bills. But start thinking about your exit plan. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but don’t stay there too long. Don’t let the fear of the unknown trap you in a place that’s stealing your peace. ‘Cause lemme tell you—peace? That’s priceless.

When I finally left that job? I didn’t look back. And every time I get an email or a text from an old coworker who’s still dealing with the same toxic energy over there, I just thank God I listened to my gut and left when I did. The universe has a way of rewarding you when you choose yourself.

So yeah, a job that robs your peace today? That’s a job you should exit—sooner, not later. ‘Cause life is too short, and your mental health is too important, to waste in a place that doesn’t see you, respect you, or let you grow.

And when you do leave, don’t feel guilty. Don’t look back. Don’t let anyone tell you that you made the wrong decision. You chose you, and that’s the best damn choice you can make.

Until next time, wishing y’all nothing but peace, unicorns, which are no less fictitious than an exit strategy that leads you to where you deserve to be.