My partner has decided to leave his corporate position. This week, he and his supervisor reached a mutual agreement about his departure. For the past five years, he held a significant role in the finance industry, making this exit somewhat unexpected. However, upon reflecting on his tenure, it becomes clear that it was not entirely surprising.
His exit stems from both structural shifts within the company and personal considerations. The organization has expanded rapidly, bringing in several talented individuals who have taken over the responsibilities he was managing on a temporary basis. Ironically, he was instrumental in hiring many of these new team members. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that his hesitance to fully embrace a corporate culture that prioritized work over family played a significant role in his decision.
To give credit where it’s due, he had largely accepted the workaholic lifestyle, only pushing back slightly. He often returned home after 7 p.m., and we rarely shared dinners during the week. I found myself dining with our kids alone while he rushed in to help with bedtime routines, squeezing in a few updates about their day before diving back into work emails and presentations late into the night.
But that wasn’t sufficient for his CEO, who often wanted to meet on weeknights and weekends. Coffee and tacos became regular weekend meetings, and while he tried to balance these with our children’s schedules, he felt unable to decline. The pressure to frequently travel for extended work trips compounded the issue. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at handling solo parenting during those times. I can manage the long days when he’s busy in the home office, but I desperately need him around at night. The surprise of our third child’s pregnancy intensified this concern for him.
A couple of months back, his boss’s wife reached out to me. We had shared pleasant conversations at business events, but her email caught me off guard: “You seem like such a wonderful person. I’d love for us to have dinner together!” During our dinner, she casually brought up their company’s financial success and mused about how perhaps our husbands could afford to work less. However, she seemed to wear her husband’s long hours as a badge of honor, describing her own struggles while managing their children alone. “Couldn’t they lighten their workloads now that the company is thriving?” she asked. I was left speechless.
Perhaps she didn’t realize the disparity in our situations. While I want my partner to work less and spend more time with us, the pressure from the top doesn’t seem to allow for that. It felt as if I was being assessed on my commitment to the company. And maybe I did fall short in that regard, but shouldn’t we set reasonable boundaries between work and home life? Our kids cherished the weekends with their dad, enjoying simple things like kicking a soccer ball in the yard or playing chess. Each time he was pulled away from family time, I felt a growing frustration—not directed at him, but at the corporate culture itself.
Is nothing sacred anymore? Family time during the weekends doesn’t seem to matter. He valued his boss as a friend, yet the question lingered: did he need to socialize with him outside of work hours? Shouldn’t our children hold priority over work commitments, even if just a little? This corporate culture glorifying overwork has caused a rift for many families. We all know that constant work leaves little room for being present parents.
In light of these events, the future feels uncertain for our family. Thankfully, we have resources to navigate this transition, a privilege not every family enjoys. This newfound freedom also brings relief. The financial sector can be lucrative, and we were somewhat dazzled by the income. Yet, I’ve always been wary of the mindset that equates money with happiness. Studies show there’s a threshold beyond which more income doesn’t equal more joy; it often leads to increased spending, higher expectations, and a diminished appreciation for what we have.
Having watched my mother confront a devastating illness and pass away, I understand that material possessions mean little in the end. Most people don’t reflect on their lives wishing they had spent more time at work. I’m happy to sacrifice material things for more family time. Thank you, my dear partner, for choosing us—we’re a fortunate family.
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In summary, my partner’s decision to leave the corporate world is rooted in the struggle between professional demands and family life. This shift opens up opportunities for a more balanced existence, allowing us to prioritize what truly matters.
Keyphrase: Corporate Life vs Family Time
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