- Jordan Page was deeply unhappy in his 9-to-5 digital content job at a Fortune 500 company.
- He said listening to Charli XCX's album "Brat" inspired him to quit and have a carefree summer.
On Friday, June 7, I had a call with my manager. It didn't go well.
She had returned from vacation and was unhappy with my performance. I thought everything was fine, seeing as I'd received positive feedback from other senior staff.
I'd worked in a digital content role at a Fortune 500 company for under a year and questioned whether it was right for me the entire time.
After being laid off last July, I freelanced for a few months but felt pressure from people close to me to get a full-time job. I also craved the security and permanency I thought a large corporation would offer.
I landed my digital content job in November 2023. Working in a corporate setting gave me a daily routine, a regular payday, and private healthcare, but I felt unfulfilled. The job description had included writing, but shifting business priorities quickly changed that. Also, my relationship with my manager had never taken off.
I felt stuck, creatively stunted, and climbing the corporate ladder in an industry I didn't care about.
I deeply related to the themes in Charli XCX's 'Brat'
On that early June evening, after being reprimanded by my manager, I sat chain-smoking on my balcony and put on a new album I'd been looking forward to.
Drained, I let the music of Charli XCX's "Brat" wash over me.
"Sympathy is a Knife," a track about spiraling self-doubt, was instantly relatable. The album's final song, "365," described a never-ending party and reminded me I deserve to have fun.
These contrasting songs perfectly reflected my current existence.
On Fridays, I'd go out with friends and have a great time, but I was filled with a sense of dread when Sunday hit. I felt like two different people: my true, extroverted self on the weekends and when I was writing and, mid-week, my anxious and unhappy shadow self.
I'd tried putting everything into my new role. I'd tried not caring so much. Neither had worked. I'd told friends about my dissatisfaction, and they all said to do what made me happy.
At that point, happiness — without a follow-up of guilt and dread — was an emotion I hadn't felt for a long time.
"Brat" was the perfect soundtrack for a fun-filled summer I desperately wanted. The album is centered on living life to the fullest. If I wanted to experience that, I needed to quit my job.
It wasn't just about partying
Charli XCX described a "brat" on her personal TikTok as someone "who feels herself but maybe also has a breakdown. But kind of like parties through it, is very honest, very blunt. A little bit volatile."
This was my "brat" moment.
Writing has always been my passion, but I'd never seriously considered doing it full-time. I'd always worked in content or marketing roles because I was worried about financial security.
At the beginning of this job, I'd hardly freelanced, putting all my energy into my new role. As time passed and I grew increasingly unhappy, I spent more free time writing, desperate to feel a sense of purpose.
My parents agreed with my decision to quit. They'd never seen me so unhappy, so it felt easier to make what seemed like an extreme decision with them in my corner.
With decent pay from the corporate role, I'd saved around £6,000, around $7,800, to live on as I tried to build a career as a writer.
I handed in my notice the following Monday and felt instant relief. That day, a senior team member told me they'd never seen me so happy.
I had a half "brat" summer
"Brat" was everywhere this summer. Brands and celebrities, including Kamala Harris' presidential campaign, co-opted lime-green memes with lowercase black writing. National news outlets had to write explainers titled "What is 'brat'?"
My friends knew about my work saga and laughed when I explained my "Brat" and cigarette-assisted epiphany. But when I told them I'd quit, I could see the shock on their faces.
I was leaving a company to work for myself during a cost-of-living crisis. They were concerned.
Their worries made me question my decision, but ultimately, I thought I'd never be as unhappy working for myself as I was in that job.
My finish date fell just before a trip to California in July, closely followed by a visit to a friend's home in Turkey. I needed time off to regroup and relax.
I returned feeling motivated to put everything into my writing career. I was strict with my weekday schedule and constantly "on." On the weekends, I could let go and have fun, knowing my week was spent doing work I cared about.
Without a monthly paycheck, I've had to be more responsible with money. Some months were harder, with weddings and festivals, but I'm learning.
I don't regret quitting for a 'brat summer'
I haven't regretted my decision once.
Although the album was the catalyst for my quitting, I'd been unhappy at work for a long time. As a freelancer, I now work when I finally feel fulfilled.
I've worked harder in the last three months than ever before. Some work days start at 6 a.m. and end at 10 p.m. I sometimes work on weekends, and some days I have nothing to do. But it's work I love to do.
Would I have quit my job if "Brat" hadn't been released? Eventually, but it would've likely been later when my mental health had deteriorated even more. The album felt like a sign, and knowing it led to being the happiest I've ever been in my career, I'm grateful that it came when it did.
Now, I work shifts for a newspaper, write articles about topics I care about, and, as of next month, write while traveling the world.
My work may be unpredictable and the financial shift from a salaried role has been a learning experience. But I have the freedom to enjoy the work I love, which is all that matters to me.