A personal story of risk, reinvention, and finding fulfillment as a work-from-home dad
When people ask me if I miss my corporate job, I just smile. They don’t see the memories flashing through my mind, the 10-hour commutes away from my family, the missed school plays, the executive calls interrupting my rare moments at my apartment. Then I look at my editing setup just steps away from where my kids are playing, and I know I made the right choice.
This is how I, Jeff, a father of three, traded my corner office for a cutting room and found both professional fulfillment and family harmony along the way.
The Corporate Hamster Wheel
For more than eight years, I lived two separate lives. In one, I was a rising corporate officer with responsibilities, status, and a steady paycheck. In the other, I was an absent father and husband who could only visit home once or twice a month.
My small rented apartment near the office became my weekday prison. Meanwhile, across a 10-hour journey, my real life—my family—was happening without me. School performances, birthdays, ordinary Tuesday dinners—all moments I couldn’t get back.
“Sorry, I can’t make it,” became my painful refrain to my kids. As a company officer, requesting leave was nearly impossible unless someone was in an emergency. The tradeoff seemed necessary at the time.
That’s what responsible fathers did, right?
Sacrifice time for financial stability?
When Crisis Becomes Opportunity
Then came the pandemic. Like millions worldwide, my company struggled. Work days were reduced to 3-4 per week, but strangely, my responsibilities didn’t decrease. Even on my “off” days, executives would call with “small favors” that turned into hours of report analysis and presentation preparation.
Around this time, a coworker mentioned earning money from home. I brushed it off as another internet scam.
I was a corporate man—what did I know about freelancing or digital careers?
But as the pandemic wore on, something inside me reached a breaking point. The reduced hours meant reduced pay, but not reduced stress. I was missing my family while still feeling burned out.
One morning, I made a decision that shocked everyone in my department.
I QUIT!
The Terrifying Freedom of Starting Over
The immediate aftermath of resignation brought mixed emotions. Physical relief as years of stress melted away. Psychological terror as I realized I had no clear path forward. My wife temporarily became our sole provider, and we tightened our belts considerably.
I purchased a modest laptop and faced the daunting online job market. I quickly learned that the digital economy was nothing like the structured corporate world I knew. Rejections piled up. Scams wasted my time. But giving up wasn’t an option with three children counting on me.
My days took on a new rhythm. Mornings were dedicated to childcare while my wife worked. We are living with my parents, whose help proved invaluable.
Then, while everyone slept, I’d wake at 2 AM and begin my real work, learning.
I explored various digital careers—administrative support, SEO, and video editing. Small gigs eventually came my way, barely covering our internet and electricity.
But it was a start.
Finding My Creative Calling
Of all the digital skills I tried, video editing sparked something in me. There was something magical about transforming raw footage into compelling stories. While my small jobs involved a mix of tasks, I found myself looking forward to the editing assignments most.
My equipment became my biggest obstacle. My laptop would freeze and lag with high-resolution footage, turning what should be one-hour tasks into three-hour struggles. But even these technical frustrations couldn’t diminish my growing passion.
A pivotal moment came when my wife and I decided to leave my parents’ home and move to the city where she worked. We rented a tiny one-room apartment—another financial stretch, but sometimes growth requires leaving comfort behind.
With each small editing project, my skills improved. I saved diligently until I could upgrade from my struggling laptop to a desktop that could handle more complex projects. With better tools, I could focus entirely on video editing.
The Transformation
The strange thing about finding your calling is how work stops feeling like work. Hours would pass as I assembled clips, perfected transitions, and fine-tuned audio. What had once been just another potential income source became a craft I genuinely loved mastering.
Clients began to notice the difference. My portfolio grew stronger. Referrals started coming in. Most importantly, I was present for my family—physically and emotionally—in ways my corporate job never allowed.
Today, I work with a video production company alongside a supportive team and kind clients. My wife has since left her job to focus on our home and children. Our roles have reversed in the most beautiful way.
Lessons From My Journey
Looking back at my transition from corporate officer to video editor, several lessons stand out:
Security isn’t just financial. True security comes from having control over your time and being present for life’s important moments.
Discomfort precedes growth. Each uncomfortable step—quitting my job, moving to a tiny apartment, learning new skills at 2 AM—was necessary for my transformation.
Passion creates perseverance. When you find work that genuinely interests you, setbacks become temporary obstacles rather than permanent roadblocks.
Skills are transferable. My corporate experience with analysis and presentations translated surprisingly well to understanding client needs and delivering polished video products.
Family isn’t just what you provide—it’s who you are present for. No amount of financial provision can replace being there for soccer games, homework help, and daily conversations.
The journey from corporate to creative career wasn’t easy or straight. It involved risk, temporary hardship, and countless late nights. But sitting here today, able to pause my work to have lunch with my kids or help with homework between editing sessions, I know with certainty, this is what success actually feels like.
For anyone standing at the edge of a similar leap, wondering if you should jump—I can’t promise a soft landing. But I can promise that the view from the other side might just be everything you’ve been missing.
Final Thought
Remember this: your children are only children once. Don’t waste these precious years. When they grow up, they’ll have their own company, their own lives, and they may not hug or kiss you the way they do when they’re little. Those sticky-fingered embraces and bedtime stories won’t last forever.
Take a job that fits your children’s schedule, not the other way around. It’s far better to be part of the memory than to hear about it afterward. Success isn’t measured by titles or salaries, but by the moments you’re present for. I’d rather be the dad who edited videos between soccer games than the executive who only saw the highlights on video.
Trust me—no promotion or corner office is worth missing your child’s childhood.
That’s the real currency we can never earn back.