Yesterday afternoon, Eloise, my cousin and I visited Central Park for an environmental awareness meetup. After the event, we grabbed milk and cookies and found a quiet bench under the shade of a tree. She took a sip and said quietly, “I think I need to quit my job.”
I knew this had been on her mind lately. Eloise had been with the same company for five years. I knew how much she’d invested in her work but she wanted more. “I’ve tried to make it work,” she continued. “But lately, I just don’t feel like myself there. I’ve been offered a new role somewhere else—something more aligned with what I want now. I feel torn. Should I walk away from everything I’ve built?”
I let her words settle and gently replied, “Have you asked yourself what’s holding you back?”
She nodded slowly. “It’s fear. Fear of change, fear of disappointing people, fear that I’ll regret it. But staying feels like I’m betraying myself.”
I leaned back and said, “Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t choosing between right and wrong—it’s choosing between comfort and growth.”
She gave a small, thoughtful smile. “That’s exactly it. I’m just so used to this place. The routines. The people. Even the parts that frustrate me feel familiar.”
“That’s understandable,” I said. “But growth rarely feels comfortable; what you’re describing sounds like outgrowing something, not abandoning it. And that’s okay.”
She looked down at her cup. “I’ve thought about making a list—pros and cons. But then I feel guilty even writing the cons.”
“Try this,” I suggested. “Instead of a pros and cons list, write down what matters most to you now—your values, your goals. Compare that with what you valued five years ago. People change. So should your path.”<he was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you think I’ll regret leaving?”
I shrugged gently. “You might. But you could also regret staying. What matters more is whether your choice honors who you are now, not who you were when you first took that job. Maybe it’s time to be a little brave. Fear doesn’t mean you’re wrong—it means you’re doing something that matters.”
Eloise looked at me, more at peace than when we’d sat down. “Thank you. I think I just needed someone to remind me that I’m allowed to want something different.” I smiled at her.
Dear Readers, if you’re standing at a crossroads, uncertain whether to stay where it’s safe or step into the unknown, remember this: fear is natural, but it’s not a sign to stop. It’s a sign you’re on the verge of something meaningful. Trust your instincts, honor your growth, and don’t be afraid to choose yourself. Sometimes, the right decision is the one that scares you the most, because it holds the potential to change everything.
