Can anyone simply say, “No, thank you” and walk away from the lure of power, fame and money?

In February 2006, I started working as a legislative officer of a senator of the Republic. The job was my ticket to the fast lane of politics and almost limitless opportunities. For a lawyer fresh out of law school, I could not help but be overwhelmed by the immensity of the power entrusted to me. I had a ringside view of the inner workings of the Senate: I saw how the lawmakers of our country called the shots and made crucial decisions at crunch time. And I witnessed events destined to land on the news unfold before my very eyes.

A dream job for any young lawyer? Maybe. But just when I thought that I was riding the wave of success, reality knocked me hard on the head.

In October 2006, I made the very difficult decision to leave the great job that I actually enjoyed. I had been chosen to represent the Philippines in a Youth Exchange Program in China for two months, and I was so excited and immediately applied for leave without pay. My boss disapproved my application for leave and his people proposed other free trips. The offers were tempting, but I recall saying, “Sir, thank you, but I think someone else is more deserving of those free trips than I am.” And right there and then, I realized that I had to tender my resignation and simply walk away.

At that time, I was angry with my boss for not giving me enough credit for the work I had done for him. Worse, he did not even have the decency to stop the people working for him from enticing me with their counteroffers.

After I resigned, I felt so scared. Not a day passed when I did not doubt my decision. For some time, I would imagine hearing people asking in whispers why I gave up a position that so many people were aspiring for. Well, maybe it was sheer pride or just plain disillusionment with my ex-boss and politics.

After two months, I was finally convinced that I had made the right decision. When I left for China, I took a leap of faith not knowing what was in store for me there. But when I came back, I realized that the whole experience taught me how to soar and soar higher. What made the letting go and moving on easier was the realization that it is difficult to work for someone if you no longer believe in him. Like everyone else, I want to work for a boss who can inspire me, a boss who does not only have the ambition but the conviction to make tough decisions.

But my story does not end there. In December 2006, I came home after completing the exchange program, worried to death because I was jobless and had no concrete plans. But as they say, God writes a straight line in crooked strokes, so if you cannot understand His plan then you just have to trust His hand.

In the middle of January, I got interesting offers from four senatorial candidates to join their campaign teams. And one of those offers came from the camp of my former boss. Before the month ended, I was on board the campaign team of one of the promising senatorial candidates.

How interesting can one’s career get at 27? Having been assigned to head the legal team of our campaign, I felt that this was my second shot at power, connection and fame. I sat at the table with important people discussing power politics. I knew first-hand how a national campaign was mounted and senatorial candidates were packaged to win in the election. I got to meet and interact with some of the most powerful people in the country. And I had the privilege of participating in oral arguments before the Supreme Court in two celebrated cases in a span of one month. What more can a young lawyer ask for in terms of career opportunities?

In July 2007, my boss was finally proclaimed senator. After everything that happened in the campaign, who would have thought that I would walk away again from the center of politics, power and connections. I was invited to head the legislative unit of my boss, but I politely declined his invitation. He asked me several times why I would not join his Senate team, but I just smiled.

Perhaps the senator still believes until today that I declined his offer because I went to China on a scholarship program. But truth to tell, I had reached a stage where I felt that I could no longer compromise certain standards and values. I realized that settling for less was no longer an option. The good pay and the power one might get from working in the Senate are quite tempting, but they are not enough. The whole experience taught me that in life, character, integrity and credibility are more important. They are non-negotiable, and they cannot be faked. Either you have them or you don’t, and when you have them you don’t sell out.

Now that I am away from Philippine politics, I still miss the adrenaline rush of knowing the inside stories behind political events. But I have no regrets about walking away from it all. Walking away does not mean quitting. Walking away does not mean you are weak. Sometimes walking away is the braver and more difficult thing to do.

Someone once told me that men and women of character know when to walk away and when not to take less than what they deserve. True, it is always better to know your worth before you allow yourself to be dragged into the false promises of power, fame and money. A colleague once bet five grand that I would not give up everything I had at that moment. I just said, “Watch me!”

Today, I am in a place that is far enough to give me a good perspective of what is happening in the crowded circle where I used to thrive. And here I realize that my decision to walk away was one of the toughest that I have made in my lifetime, yet, one that I am truly proud of. Walking away does not mean turning your back at an opportunity for the rest of your life. Sometimes, it is just taking a stand and not settling for less than what you deserve. Or it can simply be taking a good break and reinventing yourself for that bigger and better comeback.

Lesley Jeanne Y. Cordero, 27, is currently studying at the Beijing Language and Culture University in China.