Embracing the Unknown: Is Quitting Underrated?

This week's Embracing the Unknown began with a question I never expected to ask myself: Is quitting underrated? The question came after one of my usual conversations with my daughter. We were talking about work, life, and those moments when something no longer feels aligned. She made a comment that stopped me in my tracks. "Mom," she said, "isn't it better to leave before you become bitter?" Such a simple statement, yet it stayed with me long after our conversation ended.

Like many of our talks, it began with a simple question. "How's work?" Normally, I smile and answer, "Everything's great." This time, I couldn't. I admitted that I wasn't sure where I was headed in my career anymore. I felt uncertain, less purposeful than usual, and questioned whether I was contributing enough. Then, almost unexpectedly, I heard myself say, "To be honest, I could actually cry right now." Without hesitation my daughter smiled and said, "Girl... let it out." It was exactly what I needed to hear.

So often we judge our emotions instead of becoming curious about them. We tell ourselves we're overreacting, being dramatic, or too sensitive, when in reality our emotions are trying to communicate something important. They are messengers. They quietly reveal what our nervous system, our heart, and our inner world have been carrying long before our conscious mind catches up. Rather than criticizing ourselves, perhaps we need to become more curious.

My daughter reminded me of something Dr. Michael Bernard Beckwith often teaches: move away from judgment and toward curiosity. Instead of asking, "What's wrong with me?" ask different questions. What am I feeling emotionally? Where do I feel it in my body? What part of me is asking for attention? Am I responding from fear, or am I being guided toward something new? When we quiet the mind, we create space to hear answers that were there all along.

As our conversation continued, we began talking about whether I should remain in my current position or consider a different direction. The truth is, I genuinely love my job. I love the purpose behind the work, and I deeply appreciate the incredible team I have been blessed to work alongside. But as with any organization, people come and go, leadership evolves, and the overall energy can shift. Over the past several months, I found myself carrying a heaviness I couldn't quite explain. It wasn't about one particular event. It was simply a feeling that something had changed.

When I reflected more deeply, I realized that what I was experiencing wasn't frustration as much as it was separation. And whenever I feel separated from others, I have learned that fear is usually somewhere beneath the surface. As I explored that fear, I realized it often comes down to trust. Throughout my years as an educator, I have written repeatedly that children cannot learn in environments where they do not feel emotionally safe. Trust must be earned, nurtured, and protected. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps the same principle applies to adults. If I don't feel emotionally safe within my working relationships, shouldn't I also pay attention to that?

That realization led me to another question. Do I stay and attempt to rebuild trust, or do I recognize that perhaps my journey is leading me somewhere new? For me, awareness became the turning point. Once I recognized what I was feeling, I began paying attention to how my body responded each day. Was I energized or exhausted? Inspired or discouraged? Calm or constantly stressed? Our bodies often recognize misalignment long before our minds are willing to acknowledge it.

My daughter's perspective challenged another belief I grew up hearing countless times: "Winners never quit, and quitters never win." But is that always true? At what point does perseverance become self-abandonment? How long do we sacrifice our emotional well-being simply to prove that we didn't give up? Those questions don't have simple answers, but I believe they're worth asking.

One thing I admire about many young adults today is their willingness to question old beliefs. My daughter simply looked at me and said, "Mom, why would I stay somewhere that makes me miserable? We can try things, and if they don't fit, we can change our minds." What a freeing perspective. She wasn't suggesting that we quit every difficult situation. She was reminding me that giving something an honest chance doesn't mean committing to it forever. Sometimes we finish the season, complete the class, honor the commitment we made, and then lovingly choose a different direction.

As I reflected on my own life, I realized I have already done this many times. I changed my college major from pre-law to education. I moved when living situations no longer supported my well-being. I even stepped away from school temporarily to focus on my mental health. Each of those decisions felt frightening at the time, yet each one eventually led me exactly where I needed to be. So why did this decision feel different? The answer was simple. Security. Like many people, I worried about income, stability, and whether there would be enough if I chose another path.

Fear has an interesting way of convincing us that staying is safer than leaving. Yet sometimes the emotional cost of staying quietly becomes far greater than the uncertainty of moving forward. Chronic stress doesn't remain at work. It follows us home. It affects our relationships, our sleep, our physical health, and eventually our joy. When we ignore those signals for too long, we begin living disconnected from ourselves.

This doesn't mean the answer is always to quit. Sometimes the answer is having an honest conversation. Sometimes it's setting healthier boundaries. Sometimes it's giving ourselves time to adjust. And sometimes it's recognizing that our inner guidance has been quietly whispering the truth for much longer than we've been willing to hear it. The important thing is that we pause long enough to ask ourselves honest questions. Do I feel safe? Do I feel valued? Am I growing? Am I becoming a more loving, peaceful, purposeful version of myself, or am I slowly becoming resentful, discouraged, and disconnected?

Only you can answer those questions because only you live inside your body. Other people may encourage you to stay, to tough it out, or to simply be grateful. While their advice may be well-intentioned, they are not living your experience. They cannot feel what you feel each day. That is why learning to trust your own inner guidance becomes so important.

So, is quitting underrated? Perhaps. Of course, quitting every time life becomes uncomfortable can become its own unhealthy pattern. Growth often requires perseverance, patience, humility, and commitment. But there is also wisdom in recognizing when something is no longer aligned with who you are becoming. If you notice a change in your heart, a fading sense of purpose, or a loss of joy for something you once loved, perhaps it's time to pause—not from fear, not from panic, and not because someone else told you to—but from the quiet honesty that lives within you.

Reflecting on life's crossroads and trusting the courage to embrace the unknown.

Sometimes quitting isn't failure at all. Sometimes it is choosing peace over pressure. Sometimes it is protecting your well-being before resentment has the chance to take root. And sometimes, quitting simply creates the space for the next version of yourself to emerge. Perhaps the real question isn't whether quitting is underrated. Perhaps the better question is this: What are you holding onto that no longer allows you to become who you are meant to be?