Life! By Design_ 6 Steps to an Extraordinary You - Laura Morton [10]
I began rationalizing my choice to resign. I told myself I didn’t need to run the company anymore. I thought I could easily shift my energy and attention toward some of the other ventures I had started but hadn’t been able to give enough time or attention in order to make them successful.
A few weeks later, I sat down with MF to explain how I felt. I told him that I had decided to step down as president but would continue coaching and wanted to remain his partner in all of the other businesses we shared. He said that didn’t work for him. He told me to take more time off to think it over. He acknowledged that I had worked hard to get the business to its peak level but didn’t think I was seeing things as clearly as he was. Christmas and New Year’s were just around the corner, so we decided to reconvene after the holidays.
I didn’t need extra time to make up my mind, although I didn’t officially step down until January 2003. Shortly after that, I announced to my team that even though we had had a great run together, it was clear I had taken them as far as I could. I explained that MF would take over the daily running of the company, but I would still be there and always available if they needed me.
Toward the end of 2003, I concluded that I’d been riding this train far too long. It was impossible for it to go in opposite directions without breaking apart. I didn’t have the stamina to find joy in my work. If I walked away, I’d be leaving behind MF—who despite everything was my best friend, my business partner, and my mentor—along with all of my siblings, who were now each a part of the company too.
Leaving would be as complicated as a divorce. We had assets together and emotional ties that would be severed. I had worked fifteen years supporting someone else’s vision. It was time to start living my own. The only solution I had was to quit. But in MF’s world, there is no leaving and staying in good graces. Several times in the past I had tried to talk to him about how I was feeling, but he never wanted to hear what I had to say.
It all finally came to a head toward the end of the year on a flight home from an event in Miami. I was tired of coaching for MF; I no longer wanted to speak for him and I didn’t want to continue running the other companies we were involved in together. I looked MF in the eyes and told him, “I can’t do this anymore. I love you and the family, but I’ve got to follow my heart and do my own thing.” MF’s response was to “go on vacation. You’re just burned out and tired. You’ll get over it.” He was still refusing to hear what I was saying. I spent the rest of the flight fighting back my tears. I didn’t want him to see how upset I was. The next few hours were awkward for both of us. By the time we flew over Las Vegas, I had gone through all the emotion and drama in my mind. When we landed, I got into a waiting car without ever saying goodbye or looking back.
I put together my letter of resignation that night and handed it in a few days later. In the letter, I thanked MF for all he had done for me—for all he had taught me along the way and the opportunities he had extended. I wrote how much I wished he and I could have some level of joy in our relationship. I had spent years trying to get MF to love and respect me—something I wanted more than anything. But I knew the time had come for me to step away and let him run his company as he saw fit.
A few days later, I received it back in the mail with one word written across the top: “Unacceptable.” MF didn’t realize I wasn’t asking his permission to leave. He avoided me for the next thirty days. When I finally called and was able to tell him I was really through, I explained that the whole situation had become toxic and unbearable, that all the money in the world wouldn’t bring me back because it wasn’t about money, that I wasn’t sure what I was going