I Quit My Job to Save My Life
- Aubrey
- Jul 18
- 2 min read
Updated: Aug 11

Quitting my job wasn’t some bold, fearless move; it was messy, terrifying, and filled with guilt.
Because the truth is, I loved working, I loved leading people, I loved coaching others.
When I got hired at my last corporate job, I came in ready to give everything.
And I did.
I showed up every day, no matter what. I over-delivered, I over-achieved, I over-functioned, but no matter how much I gave, it never felt like enough.
I wanted appreciation, but what I got was expectation.
And the more I gave, the less of myself I had left.
The Toll It Took
Sundays became dread filled countdowns.
I’d cry before bed, not because I was lazy, but because I was soul tired.
The kind of tired rest can’t fix.
I’d sit frozen at my desk, reading emails I couldn’t respond to.
Everything felt gray. Empty. Pointless.
I wasn’t living anymore.
I was just surviving a job.
The Leap (And The Crash)
When I finally quit, I expected freedom...instead, I got anxiety, guilt, and silence.
In true overachiever fashion, I enrolled in school the same day I quit, telling myself I’d finish a bachelor’s degree in six months. (Spoiler: I didn’t.)
I dropped out.
Suddenly, I was unemployed, burnt out, and directionless, and for the first time in my adult life, I couldn’t financially support myself.
That broke something inside me.
But that brokenness became a turning point.
What Quitting Revealed
Leaving didn’t fix everything, but it gave me something I hadn’t felt in years:
Space.
Space to feel.
To cry.
To breathe.
To remember who I was before productivity became my identity.
And that space?
It became sacred.
Closing Reflection
If you’re in a job that’s draining your soul:
You are not weak for wanting peace.
You are not selfish for choosing yourself.
And you don’t need permission to walk away from what’s breaking you.
Quitting isn’t failure.
Sometimes, it’s the most courageous thing you’ll ever do.
Questions to Ask Before You Quit
Is rest no longer helping?
Do I feel like myself outside of work?
What emotion comes up when I imagine staying?
Is my identity tied to my performance?
What am I sacrificing to keep this job?
Do I feel appreciated, or just expected?
If I had no fear, what would I do?
Am I staying out of choice, or fear?
You don’t need every answer right now.
Just start asking.
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