Anyone who knows my dad knows that he is a man of few words. Anyone who knows us both knows that he and I strongly disagree on many of the few words that he does share. That said, I have to admit that there are a few things he’s told me over the years that do stick with me. One of those things was this:

“That job is never going to love you back.”

My dad said this to me about 12 years ago when he came to my house and found me exhausted – still recovering from an emergency c-section – trying to navigate my way through adding premature, newborn twins to my already overwhelming work schedule. I was convinced I could do it all – run my small business, function on just a couple of hours of sleep each night, and still be the mom that my newborn babies deserved. After all, I had been handling it all without a single problem while I was on several months bedrest at home. When I arrived at the high-risk maternity ward because my blood pressure became dangerously high, I had my laptop in hand – ready to use this frustrating “downtime” in the hospital to keep up with my work. I was dedicated to my clients. I was sure that I would gracefully add this new element of motherhood into the mix and still not miss a beat.

On this particular day, I was beyond ready to plop myself down with my babies to enjoy a little, well-earned mommy time. I had just finished my work when a frantic call came in. An emergency. A last-minute, rush project that had to be turned around immediately. It was after hours heading into the weekend. That was nothing new and I had always taken these types of last-minute projects on without hesitation. I didn’t want to disappoint my clients or have them questioning my commitment now. I couldn’t afford to have them think that motherhood was going to make me less reliable. So I took on the project. With a dejected look on my face, I handed my babies off to my dad.

My dad is DEFINITELY not the cheerleader type. He’s never been one to give uplifting pep talks – or any kind of encouragement for that matter. The most that he usually ever says is the same low, exhaled, “alright then”. That’s generally his response to anything from, “Hey dad, I’m going to head home now.” to “Hey dad, I just gave birth to twins.” That familiar “alright then” was the response that I expected to get from him that day in my living room as I handed my babies off to him. But that day I got something different. He looked at me, shook his head and said,

“You know, that job is never going to love you back.”

I had no idea why he felt the need to tell me that but it stuck in my head. It probably stuck there because it felt like he was telling me that I was failing in some way or misplacing my priorities. I thought he was implying that I couldn’t do it all, and that really irked me. Of course, I could. Besides, he was wrong. My clients DID love me back. They constantly told me how indispensable I was to their company, how great my work was, how much they appreciated me being there to pull them out of a tight spot again and again. They were the job and they did love me back. Or so I thought, at least for awhile.

In hindsight, I should have given more consideration to what he was trying to tell me. Because this year, that same client (the one that had me handing off my newborn babies on that day 12 years ago) walked away. After nearly 20 years of working together, they decided to hire someone in-house to do their design work. And that was that. It didn’t matter how many times I had been there for them. It didn’t matter how many times I prioritized them over my personal life or over other projects. It didn’t matter how much I demonstrated my committed to them over and over. They made a decision that worked best for them and that decision didn’t give me a second thought.

When that fact finally registered, it was an unexpected punch that left me feeling a bit off balance but I couldn’t quite put my finger on exactly why. At first, I thought it was because, over all of this time, I had never once made plans without first considering what they would do if I wasn’t there when they needed me. I factored their needs into nearly every decision I made about how I would spend my time over the past 20 years. I knew in my head that was a one-way street. Still, it was hard to wrap my head around the reality of it.

As I thought more about it, I realized that their announcement wasn’t the sole reason why I felt this way. You see, the kicker was, they made their decision to leave right as my kids, who were no longer babies, were getting ready to enter their teen years – a time when they wouldn’t be needing me as much either. I saw this client walk away just as I was watching “my babies” getting ready to walk off to middle school. I realized how grown up they look now. I thought about how quickly all of that time had just flown by. And I thought back to those words.

“That job is never going to love you back.”

To this day, no matter how much I have put into it, how proud I have been of my accomplishments, how much I have dedicated myself to it, it’s true. This job has never loved me back, nor should it. After all, it’s just a job. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love what I do for a living (I actually do love what I do). But that love and commitment are now tempered with the knowledge that my job is always going to be just a job. It’s not part of my family. It’s not part of my identity. It’s just something that I am able to do well and, as a happy coincidence, it happens to pay the bills.

Though I’m still sad to see one of my longest-standing clients go, I realize when I look back at my happiest memories, none of them has ever had anything to do with my job. When I think of the things I most look forward to, sitting down at the computer to work certainly doesn’t top the list. Never once has my job been there to console me after a devastating loss. It’s never written sweet, funny, little, cherished love notes for me or showed me how much I mean to it. It’s only asked, “what more you can give?” And my answer had always been, “whatever you need.”

I didn’t quite have a “cue the Cats in the Cradle”-type moment, but it was close. Thankfully, my dad’s words years earlier had made me aware that I didn’t want to ever shortchange my family and friends for my job. I have always made a conscious effort to put the extra time and the effort into the people who do love me back. But my job really did mistakenly fall into that category for a long time. As a result, I spent two decades shortchanging myself by stretching myself to the point of constant exhaustion. So, I’m handing these words down to another new mom or dad or a new business owner or anyone who is trying to stretch themselves as thin as I tried to stretch myself back when my babies were babies.

Trust me. That job is never going to love you back.

Don’t ever shortchange yourself for it. Do the things that make you happy without carrying your job on your back with you while you do. Go plan a trip. Play on the beach. Walk in the woods. Build a snowman. Laugh with friends. Quietly curl up on the couch with your loved ones. Those moments and memories are irreplaceable and they’re the things that you’ll cherish most in the end. No possessions, no awards, no amount of money will ever compare to that. With very few exceptions, that job is never going to consider you to be irreplaceable, no matter how much you put into it.

Of course, you should always honor your professional commitments. And, if you happen to love what you do for a living, that’s an awesome bonus. But whether you love or hate it, that job is never going to love you back – no matter how much of yourself you give to it. So live your life accordingly.