Stepping Back, But Not Away

Burnout, fatigue, and the self imposed slavery of an activist lifestyle.

In 2013, a simple act of protest, meaningless to most, changed the course of my life fundamentally. Where I had before been set on a career of military service and Law Enforcement, I had every preconception of the world challenged in a moment and launched onto a new trajectory of selfless service in another pursuit.

I became a Libertarian Activist.

Also known as a masochist, the eternally optimistic, and the hopefully naive, I thought through my pain and suffering, and at great personal cost, I could effect real change in the world. Tens of thousands of dollars out of my own pocket over the course of the last few years, on top of several hundred hours of unpaid volunteer work, has drained me to the edge of burning out.

I tried.

But recently, I’ve had another experience that has opened my eyes to another facet of what I’ve been doing. All the while, working 50-60 hour weeks to be able to afford to subsidize my activist activities out of my own pocket. Maintaining strenuous social relationships for the sake of coalition building. And always putting myself last, physically, mentally, and financially. But then, this past fall, I came across a job posting. And it struck me that this was a career I could find fulfilling and rewarding, and actually feel like I was having an impact.

So I applied for this job, and early on in the process, I used a sick day at my current job to take a day off for an interview. I decided not to lie to my boss, and be fully transparent and open with him when he asked why I was calling out. I told him that I was taking the opportunity to hear about another opportunity and that I had an interview. Later that day I received an email informing me that my employment had been terminated since I was “clearly disloyal and not committed to the position.”

That was 110 days ago. It was also in the midst of my volunteer commitments peaking, as I was managing a statewide campaign that had recently finished up a very stressful ballot access petition drive, and elections were right around the corner. I could afford to take some time off to myself and just focus on these commitments and the opportunity in the job I had applied for and was interviewing for, so I did.

And in 10 years of activism, this break from work, and the lul in activism after election season, I think that decision to take some time off was one of the best decisions I have made. I was able to focus on myself, reprioritize some outstanding issues in my life, and make myself fully available for an extensive and exhaustive interview process for what I had come to realize was my dream job.

I’ll spare you the details of the process over the past few months, but yesterday, after 109 days since my initial interview and introduction to the process, and losing my old job and primary source of income for daring to entertain it, I received a call telling me that I was not selected for the position. That hurt and I was frustrated, I reached out to a few close friends and vented, but it’s not the end of the world. But it was the end of a chapter of my life.

In this process, I had the time to reevaluate my commitment to the liberty movement as a volunteer activist. To account for the thousands of hours volunteered, and tens of thousands of dollars spent on a largely unrewarding and thankless cause. To question the wisdom of my extracurricular projects in creating content. And I came to certain realizations. My contributions aren’t valued by others or the movement at large as much as I valued them myself. And that’s the market speaking, I have no qualms about it.

But people do get compensated for the work I do. People get paid a lot for the work I do, and there are organizations that fund the activities for their staff to help them succeed, instead of begging them to dip into their own pockets time and time again to make things happen. That hasn’t been the case for me. But incentives matter, even to volunteer masochists such as me.

I may not have gotten my dream job, to organize, orchestrate, and direct activist activities for a cause I believe in on a full-time basis, with a support budget and a dedicated team of coworkers. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve it. I do what I do very well, better than most in my position. And I’ll continue to do it, but no longer will I sacrifice my own personal happiness and financial health to do it. I won’t make myself a slave to my hopeful optimism of seeing a world set free in my lifetime, because I want to be in a position to enjoy the victories we enjoy.

From this point forward, I will continue to be available for help, assistance, and consulting regarding ballot access, third-party campaigns, legislative lobbying and public testimony, and other activist activities. But I will no longer be sacrificing myself, my time, and my health to accomplish it- I will only do so with firm boundaries and clear expectations of compensation for my efforts.

I will continue to record podcasts on my Subversive YouTube Channel when a topic or opportunity strikes me as worth pursuing my own interest or happiness.

I will continue to write here in this substack, but without the rigorous schedule and word counts I had previously imposed upon myself as requirements.

I will door-knock, make calls, and assist in campaigns at any level, for commensurate compensation. I will no longer be a slave to myself, at the cost of what I’m fighting for.

I will keep my Patreon up but encourage you to amend or stop your contribution if this new direction deviates from your expectations. I tremendously value the support from the handful who have felt it worth sustaining my efforts these past years, but sadly, it wasn't enough, to cover the costs of the content I produced, never mind compensating for my time.

I will evaluate over the coming month whether or not to keep the Merch Store up and running, as it sometimes breaks even for the month, but usually costs me money at the end of the day. It was always more fun to make designs than to market and push, and advertise them.

I do really appreciate the support from those of you who have encouraged me along the way, but all journeys eventually reach a crossroads. Hopefully, this isn’t the final time we cross paths on this journey.

In Liberty and Love,

Justin O’Donnell