The Best Switch of My Life: From Assistant Manager to Chief Happiness Officer (at Home)

Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.

In 2023, I made a switch—not of bulbs or wardrobes, but of life. I changed my job. At first glance, that sounds like just another adulting move. But for me, it was a silent revolution—one where I put down my sword of “designation” and picked up the wand of presence.

My previous company? Oh, it was fabulous! The managers were more like Yodas than bosses—guiding, inspiring, and occasionally dishing out career wisdom like, “Do or do not. There is no try.” I learned, grew, and wore my Assistant Manager tag with pride, like a warrior’s badge. But as time passed, the Yodas left, and Sith Lords disguised as systems chaos took over.

Then came the hardest part of my career: calling my team—20 bright minds—and telling them, “Yesterday was your last day.” It broke me. I was a mother to my team at work and a robotic task finisher at home.

That stung.

I realized I was chasing excellence at work while missing out on messy hugs, evening giggles, and questions like “Why does the moon follow our car?” from my little philosophers. So, I made the boldest move—I gave up my managerial throne. Yes, I downgraded my title to upgrade my life.

Now I work as an individual contributor—just me and my tasks, no team to manage, no emotional rollercoaster of layoffs. And guess what? I’m thriving! I finish my work, shut my laptop, and actually see my kids’ faces when the sun is still up. “Success is not how high you climb, but how deeply you connect,” someone wise once said. I believe it now.

I’ve become the Chief Happiness Officer at home—handling homework reviews, snack negotiations, and bedtime debates. My KPI? Number of laughs per day.

“Sometimes a step down is actually a step up in disguise.”

Thought to ponder:
If your job vanished tomorrow, would your kids recognize the person sitting across from them at the dinner table? If not, maybe it’s time for your switch too.

Because titles fade, but memories stay—and the ones we make at home are the real promotions in life.