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My final stint in the “corporate world” was at J.P. Morgan, on a trading desk, in San Francisco. I was 17 years into my career by then, and I was burnt out. I needed a change. So, in 2017 I finally made the decision to leave.
My final day stunned me.
I’d been contemplating my departure for a while. But it wasn’t easy. I had made good friends there. The money was still better than almost anything else I might do. So I didn’t know where I’d go next. I knew there wasn’t a better financial institution out there. If I wanted to stay in the industry, I should stay at the firm.
But something was feeling misaligned. With every passing year, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to be doing something different. So I was looking for a new path. A new challenge. A new course for my career.
Eventually, I found it. It was a left turn, to be sure. I would be moving from finance into public relations. But it made sense for a host of reasons I don’t need to hash out here.
I’d be moving up to the Lake Tahoe area. To join a startup that my friend was launching. Apart from the new-ness of the career path, living in a new area -- in the Sierra Nevada mountains -- was a huge draw. It was kind of a dream come true.
On the day I gave my notice, I knew it would be a quick exit. When people quit, they usually are given about 30 minutes to gather their things and say goodbye to their colleagues.
What floored me was the reaction of the people on the desk: almost universal jealousy.
I was shocked at first. Then, as it sank in, I got sad. Sad because it meant the people around me were also looking for a way out. I’d had no idea. We never spoke about wanting to leave.
I was sad that so many clearly felt stuck. Not because they lacked options. These were smart, successful, well-compensated people. But because they didn’t believe that they had any good options.
Maybe it was golden handcuffs. Maybe they’d never taken the time to realistically envision or explore something else. Whatever it was, I realize now that it wasn’t what was actually true for them. Because I struggled with the same thing, for nearly 5 years. Struggled against a story. I can’t afford to leave. I don’t have the skills for something else. I’ve been in it too long to quit now. This is just what my life is.
It was all just what they’d decided to believe.
I’m not saying it’s easy to walk away from a career you’ve built. But the wall in front of most people isn’t the job, the money, or the risk. It’s the belief. And the belief is usually just fear, wearing a mask to justify staying still. And it tells you that staying in place, even when miserable, will be easier than changing direction.
I can vouch for the fact that it’s not easy to switch careers 17 years in. But I can also vouch for the fact that it’s not as hard as you probably believe it is. “Everything is figure-outable”, as my coach likes to say (h/t ).
And here’s what you might not expect: there’s a part of it that is unexpectedly fun, adventurous, and activating. For me, I felt alive again. It felt risky and tenuous. It demanded my full attention.
And that experience far outweighed the slow death I was feeling by staying in place and denying the feeling that I needed something new.
So if you’re stuck somewhere you don’t want to be, look hard at the story you’re telling yourself about why you can’t do it differently. Ask yourself if it’s actually true, or if it’s just the least disruptive idea.
For me that story wasn’t true. I’m willing to bet it probably isn’t for you either.
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