How Avengers: Endgame Changed My Life

Picture the scene if you will: it's 2019, you love movies and you've dutifully watched (almost) every installment of the MCU for the past eleven years. You've booked a double bill screening to see Infinity War and Endgame back-to-back, Endgame starting at one minute past midnight so you can be one of the first audiences in the world to see it. The cinema is busier than it often is at social hours of the day, lots of people are dressed up, and you can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The film lives up to the hype, everybody gasps and laughs together, and you leave with a bubble of happiness around your little soul. It's still intact as you get into work the next morning. Yes you're a bit tired but you're on time and you do your damn job like you always do. One of your colleagues asks you how the film was and your boss overhears and accuses you, in front of your colleague and potentially customers, of being unprofessional. The bubble of happiness is well and truly disintegrated. You hold it together, hearing them talking about you to your colleague while they think you're out of earshot, until lunch when you cry in a public place, call your Mum, and then promptly hand in your four weeks notice when you get back.

This is the situation I found myself in two and a half years ago. I would say hasn't time flown but time has lost all meaning these last eighteen months. I'm not going to name the person or the place but I will tell you I have no luck with employers and this was Bad Boss #3 of my twenties. I could probably write a book about all the things I've put up with at work that I shouldn't have, sometimes I think I must have dreamt some of it, but I won't dwell on it all here. The 'unprofessional' comment was the straw that broke the camel's back rather than being the only reason I left a secure job. I had requested mediation from upper management over two months before that day, but it never happened, and I was feeling the tell-tale signs of my mental health taking a kicking; I felt sick most days going into work and I wasn't taking pride in my appearance. Leaving work that day having handed in my notice I felt about ten stone lighter, even with the uncertainty of what came next.

I kind of hate the phrase 'everything happens for a reason' because people only say it when something bad happens but with the benefit of some distance, I can honestly say I am grateful it happened the way it did. I'm a carer for my Mum so when, less than a year later, the COVID-19 pandemic happened and my Mum was on the 'extremely vulnerable' list that we had in the UK I was able to shield with her without worrying about going into work and bringing something back. I could attend her appointments without having to beg for the time off and then make it up another day. Also, the first Sunday after I left, I was able to attend my Dad's surprise birthday party.

For the last little while I have been working flexibly from home for a small community group. I love it, it's extremely varied and I get to be creative. It's a small team and we all cheerlead for each other. Now my pandemic panic state is beginning to ease, and I no longer have work related burnout I am also pushing my writing more and more and recently had an anthology acceptance.

I'm not going to say I'm a perfect employee but if properly supported I will work hard for you. This situation, and the self-acceptance that seemingly installed itself overnight when I turned thirty, has really helped me to see what I'm worth. I'm confident that if there's ever another toxic workplace, I'll recognise it sooner and I can remove myself before it impacts my health as the previous three places have.

I'm in a much better place now and there's no going back.