The magic of quitting and the beauty of letting go
What I can tell you one year on from quitting the ‘dream job’
One year. A lot can happen in one year or a little can happen in one year. A lot can change in one year or a little can change in one year. It’s been one year since I quit and walked out the virtual door of my job. The one I had thought would be the making of the next chapter of my career and working life and in some ways it was, not just in the way I had thought.
Quitting gets a bad rep. It’s seen as giving up, giving in, abandonment. The quitter seen as weak, unable to hack it but sometimes there is no braver choice than to quit. To go into the unknown, to walk your own path, to do the unexpected. Sometimes with a vague idea of direction but no clear way through or sometimes with no direction at all. I think the fear of quitting isn’t something we are born with but something that we learn. I remember when I quit ballet as a child, I felt empowered by my decision not shamed. Walking up to Miss Pond with my ballet bag full of shoes, leotards and pink crossover cardigans ready to close the chapter never looking back.
The day I handed in my notice last April I had the same feeling, I was flooded with relief not fear. I had made the right choice and with the end in mind I made it through those final few months. This year of freedom and discovery has brought me back to life. A year ago I wasn’t writing, well not in this way and not everyday. It had been at least 20 years, my entire working life I had given up one of the things I had loved the most. Getting off the treadmill enabled me to free my mind of the worry of work and see what came in when the daily stress was taken away. The clarity when the fog lifted, the right questions asked, gave me a sense of how I wanted to live my life and the confidence to think it could actually be a possibility. I started to dream again of what I wanted to do now and in the future. Before I was just getting through the days, in a bid to one day have freedom, to one day live rather than exist.
I’d never left a job without a plan before; to travel, to transition smoothly into another role, but this time quitting required no plan. The previous two years had been rough; I’d been burnt out, anxious, I’d been so low in that job that I struggled to see the point anymore. I needed to let it all go heal and to do that I needed freedom, complete freedom to see where it all would lead.
One big thing I learnt about quitting is that nothing bad happens. In fact only good stuff happens when you release yourself from a bad situation. You correct yourself from following the wrong path and while its much more difficult, you find your own. It might not be clear or perfectly formed but you will find it, you just have to make a start. Try things and do the next thing and then the next, but don’t forget to turn around once and a while to see how far you’ve come, to marvel at your strength and bravery.
I’ve written before that the way forward isn’t always a straight line and there lies the beauty of it. It doesn’t reveal itself all at once rather encourages tentative steps of discovery. These beautiful words from Antonio Machado’s poem Wanderer sum it up perfectly:
“Wanderer, your footsteps are the road, and nothing more; wanderer, there is no road, the road is made by walking. By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind one sees the path that never will be trod again. Wanderer, there is no road-Only wakes upon the sea.”
Healing from what’s come before and unlearning what doesn’t serve you is part of the process, you do the work. Here I am one year on very different from the exhausted, stressed, frazzled anxious person that decided enough was enough.
I’ve been powering up, that’s the best way I can describe it. I’ve been learning, listening, creating, writing, gardening, walking myself back to me. Remembering what I enjoy, how I want to live and what’s most important to me instead of blindly following a version of success dictated by society. Here I am at the beginning again, my beginning. About to embark on a new adventure navigating unknown territory one step at a time.
I’ve been reading Stylist Magazines response to the Paul Morland’s Sunday Times piece last week ‘Should we tax the childless’ In Paul Morland’s viral Sunday Times piece shows it’s easier to blame women than to make meaningful change writer Kat Brown sums up everything that’s wrong with the words hidden behind the paywall.
I’ve been reading An English Literature Degree isn’t just about reading books by guest writer Adam Farrer on Emma Gannon’s substack The Hyphen. Last week a group of universities announced closures of humanities and arts programs as they didn’t automatically guarantee a job within 6 months of graduating. As a English Literature graduate I can say my degree gave me much more than reading books (and a hefty student loan) it enabled my to think critically and question.