Dear KP,

KP, in the early days, you would often say,

“You can be comfortable or courageous. You can’t be both.”

And for the last six years, I’ve lived that mantra for the company. It was at the core of every outward motion, every effort we made. Risks taken, failures learned, until the wins began stacking with momentum.

From you ringing the cowbell at the Times Square office when we hit 300k in website traffic, to reaching 1m ARR, to quadrupling that number the following year. All the milestones we passed are too bountiful to recount. And there are some that are more meaningful left unmeasured — because how do you quantify the feeling of family?

KP, it’s been an honor to experience first-hand how you grew not only this business, but a cohort of innovative, passionate, and trusted decent human beings. Who get sh*t done with vigor, with vibrancy, with tenacity. We truly created unforgettable experiences for our customers, and, most of all, for ourselves. For our employee experience.

Yes, there were challenges. There were long days and late nights and always too little time. The direction occasionally shifted and goal posts sometimes changed. But in flexibility and agility came success and growth. We can be comfortable or courageous. We can’t be both.

And when I say growth, I mean growth at every level. From the maturing operating models and frameworks, to introducing new business units and the structure to underpin it all. And perhaps most poignantly, the progression of individuals within the company, including me.

KP, at times you would mistakenly think I started with your former consulting group. “When did you start again? With the consulting group?”

I started with the business on 10 February 2016, as an intern writing for what was then the content marketing strategy, aka the Wolverines. I had recently resigned from my previous employer of nearly five years and was amidst another career shift — from psychology research, to counseling at a methadone clinic, to running operations for a multi-million dollar private practice, to my first paid op-ed publication as a writer.

Then I met the company, a team of less than 30 people. What I thought would be a temporary writing gig between jobs unexpectedly turned out to be the most rewarding period in this non-linear journey of mine.

In my six-year tenure with the company, I’ve lived and worked in NYC, Hobart, Melbourne, and now the Bay Area; I’ve reported into four different managers, each with their unique leadership styles and diverse areas of expertise; I’ve been a part of two separate business functions; I’ve grown into four additional positions since beginning as a copywriter.

Looking back at it now, my adventure with the company has been a combination of the opportunities offered to me and the possibilities I proactively pursued. Conversations turned into ideas that were explored with open curiosity and often encouragement. I am so grateful. And I am also ready.

People may ask me why I’m leaving and I’ll say, “It’s just time.”

To answer that question whole-heartedly requires the memory of a guest speaker we once had at the Madison Ave office.

He spoke of how individuals thrive when they have a job that’s aligned with their mind, heart, and pocket. Join that with a company vision and mission they can stand behind, and that’s when organisations flourish — inside-out, from its people.

That’s how I’ve felt working for the company over the past six years. Passionate. Driven. Motivated. Inspired. Dedicated. Lately though, that’s begun to change.

If alignment looks like a vertical line connecting the three sequential dots of the mind, heart, and pocket, what was once a solid straight line at the center of my being, slowly began shifting into the shape of an arrowhead, pointing me to a new direction. Like a drawn arrow waiting to be released, I’m ready to leap forward into the next unknown.

While there are factors that may feed my mind and fill my pockets, I need to show up everyday aligned and whole, to do my best work — the work the business needs and deserves.

So, why am I leaving?

It comes full-circle back to the start: I can be comfortable or courageous. I can’t be both.

Which is to say, it’s my time.