Peeling Back the Layers: Why I Quit My Job Without a Safety Net

Disclaimer: A Bittersweet Farewell

Before I dive into the citrusy details of why I made the leap, I want to make one thing clear: I’ve had the privilege of spending five years with a company filled with amazing people. I’ve been lucky to work alongside great leaders and lead a diverse group of team members who brought their A-game every day. But like a lemon with too little sugar, the company’s lean business model left a sour taste—never enough payroll for staff, which meant, as a salaried employee, I often stayed late to finish what couldn’t be done. While the people were sweet, the setup was simply too tart to swallow any longer.

When life gives you lemons, sometimes you have to say, "Thanks, but no thanks," and toss them right back. Today, I quit my 50 to 70-hour-a-week job, and let me tell you, it wasn't a decision made lightly. But when you start feeling more like a squeezed-out lime than a zest-filled human being, it's time to reassess.

I realized that no paycheck, no matter how juicy, could make up for the time I was losing with my family and friends. How many times did I choose work over a moment with my kids? How many books did I put off reading because there were characters I never had time to meet? I was becoming that pasty, pale person who forgets what sunshine feels like because I was indoors for 12 hours a day.

So, I took the leap. No backup job, no safety net—just a gut feeling that I couldn't let this job take any more from me. Not my fun moments, not my sanity. I’ve been down that road before—depression so deep it was a struggle to get out of bed, comb my hair, or clean the house. I had just enough energy to make sure my family was fed, then I’d beat myself up because I felt like I should be able to handle it. After all, don’t people have it worse? But I climbed out of that hole once with counseling and time off, and I wasn’t about to go back.

The signs were there: no makeup, struggling to get up in the morning, showing up late for work—five minutes, then ten, then thirty. Coming home and going straight to bed. I was only awake long enough to cuddle with whichever family member was nice enough to tell me about their day as I drifted off to sleep. They didn’t even get offended when I zonked out mid-story. Damn, I love my family. And that’s why I can’t take them for granted. They are my priority. They are why I work. But even if I didn’t have them, I’m worth it. My time is precious. I count.

So, here I am, starting this blog—a creative release where I get to speak my mind, share my experiences, and maybe, just maybe, connect with someone who feels the same way. I want you to know that I see you.

What’s your story? Drop a comment below and let’s share some zest for life together.

Love,

Jess Pye