Have you ever been pushed to a point where you’ve wanted to quit your job? Have you ever dreamt of saying goodbye to the daily office grind, packing up your cubicle (oh, that dreadful cubicle), and ditching that exhausting lifestyle altogether?

I’m right there with you, my friend.

Maybe it was when you were having “one of those weeks” where your to-do list kept growing faster than you could check-it off. Maybe it was when you put in hours and hours of work into a project and got little to no recognition. Or maybe that coworker, who’s always pushing your buttons, pushed your buttons a little too hard.

At what point is enough, enough?

Well, I recently hit that point. Exactly one fortnight ago, I walked out of my comfy, secure, well-paying corporate job — for the last time. Crazy, right?

I must be to give up a steady paycheck and promising career trajectory. But it was probably the most rational (and biggest) decision I’ve ever made.

Let’s back up a little bit.

Welcome to 9-to-5..err..7..I mean 10…whatever

Three years and three weeks ago, I officially joined the workforce and started to contribute to society. Hooray!

I entered as a financial analyst in Corporate and Investment Banking. The job fit the corporate profile — formal attire, a cubicle, daily calls/meetings, a traditional management structure, and so on.

Within a month or two of starting my first job out of school, it dawned on me that the corporate career ladder was not one I wanted to climb. Not to say that I wasn’t willing to work hard and go above and beyond expectations — I just had this feeling, deep down, that the role and its trajectory were not going to be meant for me.

It wasn’t my calling, I guess you could say.

But I still had a TON to learn. It’s not like I was already on the brink of quitting. I just knew it wasn’t my permanent place. So I buckled in for the ride and, well, got to work.

Flipping through the pages of this chapter, this part’s a slower read…let’s see, I got more acquainted with the job, started to prove my worth, handled a steep learning curve…yep, mhm. Ah, yes, here we are.

Roughly a year or so later, I revisited this conundrum. At this point, I started to apply spare time to researching other occupations and careers. This is when I had a “eureka” moment, so to speak. While stumbling down a rabbit hole one night, I happened upon the field of copywriting. It had never occurred to me that someone, somewhere had to write all the content we consume on a daily basis — financial newsletters, subscriber emails, articles on why Millenials are buying homes for their dogs, advertisements, etc.

I’m sitting there thinking, “there’s no reason I can’t do that too.”

The pros of freelancing were significant: total flexibility, ultimate creative outlet, entry into entrepreneurship. Of course, it came with its own set of challenges too. But, they seemed worth it.

Although it had a level of independence in terms of task/time management, my job operated within a box. That’s just the nature of banking. My days were easy to blend together. The role I was in had plenty of responsibility, but it was a defined, cyclical process. Side note, I didn’t want to go so far as to say the process was repetitive, so I looked up synonyms to find something less harsh — did you know “soul-destroying” is a synonym for repetitive? Seriously, google it.

Yikes.

At this point, freelance writing became a viable option. So I started to do my homework. When I wasn’t working, I was doing research, studying successful digital marketers and freelancers, and building my own website and portfolio.

Moonlighting as a freelance writer while maintaining a 60–80-hour per week banking job was both mentally and physically taxing. I mean, there’s only so much time in the day.

But it was worth it. I could see a future in the profession. I was driven to make it happen.

Thumbing through more pages…

Has it ever seemed like work is stifling your personality? For a long stretch of time, I didn’t quite feel like myself. Work was always at the forefront of my mind. I grew accustomed to being “on” so often that I had a hard time turning “off.” I was shorter with people, I didn’t feel like I could contribute much to any conversation — I didn’t have the energy to. Hell, there were points where I was so mentally tuned-in to my work that I’d have trouble articulating points or coherent sentences in social settings. My head was elsewhere. Inner-me was suffocating under the pressures of balancing work, health, adulting, relationships, etc.

Not that I needed another reason, but this was the most telling sign that I needed to make a change.

Quitting

The day I quit started just like any other day. It also felt like any other day, despite the impending monumental act that would unquestionably alter my life forever. No biggie, right? I knew I was quitting, but the significance of what I was going to do just wasn’t registering. I was ready to transition to the next chapter of my life.

That changed right before the meeting with my manager.

I’m not going to lie, I was nervous as hell. I had to step outside and compose myself. I may have rehearsed what I was going to say once or four times.

Have you ever built up a moment so much in your head that, when it actually happens, it’s pretty anticlimactic? I walked into my manager’s office, shared my thoughts, and put in my two-week notice.

That was it. It was a pretty short conversation actually. I wouldn’t even really call it a conversation — it was more so…transactional. I shared words and he accepted them. Then I left.

For the rest of the day, the phrase “you just quit your job” played on repeat in my head.

During the months leading up to that moment, one of my biggest worries was getting swallowed by this internal wave of fear and anxiety as soon as I quit. Would I be able to pull a Hernán Cortés and burn my ships without losing my shit? I knew I could rationalize the decision, I just wasn’t sure how I’d handle it emotionally.

The only emotions I felt at that moment were giddiness and soul-refreshing relief.

Welcome to the rest of your life

I got a bit of a natural high when I walked out of the office for the last time. A switch had flipped. All of my day-to-day work responsibilities were nullified. They vanished. The portfolio I was charged with managing, the deals in my pipeline, the monotonous admin work, it all ceased to exist — at least for me.

Over the next few days, I kept catching myself checking my phone for work emails. I also had to keep reminding myself that I didn’t have to go to work on Monday…at least in the traditional sense I had grown so accustomed to.

Two weeks in, I’m certain this was the best decision. It’s been freeing. It’s been a major uplift to all aspects of my life. I’m more energized, more outgoing, and just generally in a better mood.

I feel like I’m in total control and operating in the right environment. I may just have found my calling, but we’ll see.

That being said, I’m not advocating for everyone to drop all of their career progress and goals and quit Corporate America — at least, not without reason. If you take anything away from my story thus far, please let it be this: pay attention to the signs. Listen to your inner-self when you’re raising alarms. If you can’t see yourself growing in your current role or you don’t see your current trajectory leading to a desirable position, then maybe it’s time to look into alternatives. In other words, if the end doesn’t justify the means, then consider another path.

Nothing worth having comes easy though. There’s some form of “grind” with anything you’ll do. I’m in the process of learning that now, but I’m thoroughly enjoying this grind.

Although the majority of this post promotes leaving the corporate world, I was/am honored to have been in the role I was in. I gained invaluable knowledge and experience, as well as an amazing network of intelligent, hardworking individuals. I will always be grateful for that.

Published initially on Medium.com