New Job, New Cat, Same Old Me (Kinda)

“It happened so fast, I didn’t even feel the blast”

Since my new job recently, I don’t have access to a computer where I would normally past my time by writing in my blog. So here I am doing this on my iPhone 13. So here we go!

In just a few weeks, I quit my job, took a breath (finally), and walked straight into a brand-new chapter. I swapped sly comments from my manager for balance, cold leadership for warm-hearted teammates, and plot twist I became a cat grand dad.

But let’s rewind for a second.

Leaving my job at Equitable wasn’t a snap decision. It’s been a long journey of resume sending, ghosted interviews. I spent everyday for the past three years refreshing my emails. In hopes there was a new opportunity waiting to happen for me. I gave that place 15 years of my life. 15! That’s longer than some of these financial planners have even had a driver’s license.

I didn’t expect a grand exit, but what I got truly moved me: genuine love and support, not from management, but from my coworkers. The planners. My team. The people I worked with, not for.

The folks I supported showed up with kindness, encouragement, and reminders that I mattered. They made me feel seen and valued in ways I hadn’t felt in years. It was healing. It felt like this to very moment I was leaving those doors for the last time. I had a parade of people walking me to the elevator bank. I even had one guy chase me down the block to hand deliver the card you see above.

So what about the leadership or management? You know the ones you had meeting lunches with, the ones who wanted white glove treatment?…Crickets. No farewell lunch. No handshake. Not even a thank you. Just the same quiet indifference they’d shown whenever I asked for small things—like empathy—and compassion.

When you live with a chronic illness like MS, that silence hits different. I never asked for special treatment. Just humanity. I think collectively we are all lacking this fundamental component. We could talk about this in depth at a later date. This is not to offend the reader, this is towards the ones you know well.

So yeah, I left.

And for one whole week, I did something wild—I rested. I breathed. I let myself be still. I’m lying!!  I played video games for 12 hours everyday.  I’m sorry but I am just hooked to this one Xbox game. Then I started a new role. One that came with more responsibility and, finally flexibility!

At Telstra, I’ve found a team that’s not just sharp, but kind. People who greet me with respect. Who understand that contribution doesn’t always look the same for everyone.

And still… I was scared.

That week before my start date? I was on edge. Anxiety in full swing. I barely slept. My wife was concerned. Meditating couldn’t help me. My mind was stuck on loop:

What if I can’t do this?

What if I made the wrong call?

What if they see my wheelchair before they see me?

Spoiler alert: Fear lies.

This team has welcomed me in every way that matters. I show up. I contribute. And slowly but surely, I’m starting to believe again, not just in the work, but in myself. You got this kid!

Meet Amira Lynn, our new cat. She’s already the queen of the house. We suspect she has a little feline ADHD (zoomies at every time O’Clock sharp), but she brings the kind of joy that fills a room, and maybe leaves a few claw marks.

She’s chaos, sure. But the best kind. The kind that makes you laugh. The kind that reminds you that love doesn’t always sit still.

So yeah, it’s been a ride. New beginnings are rarely smooth. But sometimes, when you walk away from what no longer serves you, you find a door you didn’t even know was there.

To anyone standing at the edge of change: trust yourself. Even if your voice shakes. Especially if it shakes.

Signing off until next time with love (and cat hair),