On Quitting, Fear, and Choosing Bravery

I wrote this for LinkedIn, though it is not your typical professional accomplishment post. But I think we could all do with more radical honesty, particularly in the ways we talk (or don’t talk) about our career struggles.

Here I am, being radically honest. I’ve given notice at my current job. My last day will be in early March. And as of now, I have no new job lined up.

Image Description: Carolyn, a cishet white woman with brown curly hair, looks directly at the camera. To her right is a vase with a bunch of periwinkle hyacinths.

If you had told me in fall 2019 that, by the start of 2020, I would be gainfully employed at a big-name institution of classical music, I wouldn’t have believed you.

If you further told me that, near the start of 2022, I would willingly leave that job with nothing else lined up, I would have stared at you in horrified shock.

Am I scared? Consumingly so.
Am I doing it anyway? Yep.

This fear is familiar to me. When I made the decision toward the end of finishing my PhD that I would not enter the academic job market, I was petrified. And that fear lived deep in the marrow of my bones. Fear about what it meant to abandon core aspects of my identity. Fear that I would never find fulfilling work. As a person who has always measured her worth by her accomplishments and worries deeply about failure, navigating this pivot required the unpacking of overstuffed emotional baggage. (I am still unpacking it to this day. Three cheers for therapy.) It also required figuring out how on earth to make it happen.

So I read. I researched. I networked. I webinared. I informational interviewed. I put my introvert self out there to everyone who would listen to me. I stumped and scraped and genuflected and went out and learned all that I could about getting a non-academic job. At a time when I was mentally and emotionally stretched the thinnest, I summoned the remaining scintilla of my elasticity to stretch more and give myself the tools for non-academic professional success. Because even though the academic job market has been a tire fire for years, my university and my department certainly never did.

And throughout this process, the fear persisted. Fear that I was worthless in the professional “real world,” and that I should grasp at any opportunity that came my way, no matter what it was, no matter if it was something I wanted to do.

So when a job came along, despite my hesitations about not being suited to the work, I seized it. Desperately, thankfully.

And don’t get me wrong, I am beyond grateful. For my wonderful colleagues who saw my potential and helped me grow. It’s largely due to their support that I have stayed as long as I have. (Well, that and a congenital aversion to quitting.)

In the last several months, though, I finally admitted to myself that this role doesn’t fit. But because I haven’t yet found my safety net, my fear drove me to keep trying to make it fit, square-peg-round-hole style, until I just…couldn’t anymore. I’m tired. Burned out. And know that this isn’t where I’m meant to be.

After I made my decision but found my resolve wavering, I was fortunate enough to stumble upon inspiring personal essays on bravery, from Vu Le’s blog about finding courage during the Year of the Tiger, to Paru Tanna’s candid post about leaving her own job. The serendipity of finding those beautiful bits of writing exactly when I needed them was poignant and affecting.

And y’all? I am so tired of living my life under the tyranny of fear. This fear does not serve me. At all.

So, I am choosing to leap, irrespective of my fear. I am choosing to be brave. I am choosing to believe that I can forge a path forward, one that better aligns with my skills and passions. And I am choosing gratitude for the privilege to take the time and space to reflect, listen to myself, and reach for the opportunities that will set my spirit ablaze.

Here I am, joining the Great Resignation. And I can’t wait to see what comes next.