Two Years, Countless Lessons: Reflections and a Mindset for the Future

“Don’t get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.” — Dolly Parton

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After two years working as a technical writer at ABN, I’ve been reflecting on what I’ve learned—about work, life, and myself. This is both a look back at my time there and a look forward at what’s next.

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Here’s the truth: the kind of life I want, the quality of life I’m chasing, can’t be achieved on a European salary. That’s just facts. So yeah, I need to figure something else out. Until then, my goal is simple: show up, do excellent work, sharpen my skills, and contribute to the company’s dreams.

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But I also realize now—these jobs are just jobs. They’re someone else’s dreams I’m helping bring to life. Nothing wrong with that, but I can’t put my expectations there. A job will keep food on the table, sure, but fulfillment? That’s on me. My own dreams won’t let me down or leave me when budgets get tight. They may be unclear, uncertain, messy—but they’re mine. And that’s what’s gonna get me up in the morning, excited to live again.

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I’m not leaving my happiness, fulfillment, or life goals in the hands of an employer. They don’t owe me that. They pay me just enough to keep their goals alive. But I owe myself more—and that’s what I’m going after, moving forward.

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“If you don’t build your dream, someone will hire you to help build theirs.” — Tony Gaskins

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And while it’s fine to help build someone else’s dream—because not everyone even wants to live a creative life—I want more. I want a life that goes beyond work. I have many interests, I am way too curios, and I plan to live many lives in this one. I know I was built to dream and create.

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The ABN Chapter

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An era has ended with ABN. Two years ago, I packed up in Malta, abandoning blue beaches, sunlight, and my digital nomad program and moved to the Netherlands for a six-month contract. After months of being basically homeless, we finally got an apartment. It was empty, but we managed to make it feel like home. And that “short” contract? It stretched into two full years.

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For that, I’m grateful—the lessons, the opportunities, the small wins. Every phase of life has something to teach you, and one lesson is clear: I’m not built for corporate life.

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Here’s why: I like working behind the scenes. I enjoy finding problems, solving them, and moving on. I don’t care about demos, presentations, or putting on a show about what I’m building. However, in corporate settings, visibility is everything. They want records, updates, decks, demos, and meetings about meetings. I get it, it makes sense for them. But me? I just want to do the work.

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And the politics? The drama? That’s the part that kills it for me. What should be fun and simple gets drowned in noise. I want to finish my work, go home with energy left, and spend it with my family. That’s it. Going forward, I want a career where the work speaks for itself—no applause needed. Just: this shit works, someone solid built it, move on.

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Departures and People

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When people found out it was my last day, they asked how I felt. Truth? I didn’t feel much. I’ve changed jobs enough to know: a job is a job. It’s business for them; it should be business for me, too. Honestly, I was relieved to leave because I’d already started to feel like my work wasn’t valued anymore by some people in "management".

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What I did feel was about the people. Over time, some colleagues became friends. Leaving that stung a little. But friendship continues outside the office, so that’s something I carry with me. I’ve shared birthdays, small wins, tough days with these people. They’ve seen my ups and downs. For that, I’m grateful.

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But I’ve also learned something: we are not family. We never were. Companies love saying that, but it’s not true. I miss my actual family back home. I left them for what I thought was worth it. Maybe it was, perhaps it wasn’t. Both can be true. Still, I’m thankful—for my contracting agency, for my team, for Olesia, and for the opportunity to live in a new country, learn a new culture, and experience life differently.

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Growth and Next Steps

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Over the past two years, I was promoted to Senior Technical Writer. That was a solid reminder: I know my onions. I just need to show up confident, stop underselling myself, and quit playing the “humble” card. Humility doesn’t get you far in corporate. Maybe it’s time to play the game—or maybe not. I’ll figure that part out.

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What I do know is this: I’m excited for what’s next. I’m looking forward to the day when I can say all of this migration, all of these moves, were worth it.

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For now, I’m grateful. For now, I’m curious. And for now, that’s enough.

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Till I write again.

Obiagu

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