In March 2022, I sat in a meeting room and got torn apart by a library board. They gave me a 1 out of 5 on my evaluation. They couldn’t tell me what I was doing wrong, but they were very sure I was doing everything wrong.

I will never forget a long time library board member and former role model of mine looking me in the eye and saying I needed to think long and hard about my next career move. She suggested I consider something not in leadership because I was not cut out for it.

In the middle of the meeting, the school nurse called. My daughter had an eraser stuck in her ear. I had to leave to take her to the doctor, then come back so they could finish my terrible evaluation that felt like a setup so I would hand in my resignation like they wanted.

That was my third job in less than a year. And honestly? Quitting those three jobs in a row was the best thing I ever did for my career.

But let me back up, because the real story starts ten years earlier.

The Golden Handcuffs: 11 Years of “I Thought I’d Retire Here”

Prior to this, I worked at a community action agency in a small town in rural eastern Kentucky for 11 years. I started as a youth trainer in a neighboring county, then finally got the opportunity to be a career advisor in the county where I lived. Nine miles from my house. A job I actually liked.

Golden handcuffs, right? Close to home, decent work, familiar. Everyone I talked to knew I planned to retire from there.

But the work environment was toxic. Upper management especially. I’d been told off the record that I would never be considered for a leadership position because of where I lived. I was the first steady career advisor in that county in a long time, and I had one of the largest caseloads. I dedicated over a decade of my life to that place.

In 2020, my friend and I both got accepted into a leadership program. A competitive leadership development program designed to combat the brain drain in eastern Kentucky. It was supposed to be an investment in emerging leaders.

Our employer was the only employer that refused to pay for our time there. We had to use vacation time to attend a leadership program that would improve us as professionals.

A community action agency. An organization whose entire mission is supposed to be about developing people and communities.

It was a slap in the face. And it clarified something I’d been avoiding for years: they didn’t care about me or my development.

But honestly, the real shift started in 2014.

The Moment That Changed Everything

In 2014, I delivered my son at 26 weeks. He died 10 days later.

I used four weeks of FMLA. When I got pregnant with my daughter within the same year, I was told I could only take eight weeks instead of twelve. My coworkers and the executive director donated their time so I wasn’t out a paycheck, which was beyond kind and I am honestly so grateful.

But still. I had lost my son traumatically less than a year prior, and I had to go back to work eight weeks after giving birth to my daughter, who I was convinced was going to die at any moment.

That’s when my perspective shifted. That’s when I started realizing how little work mattered in the grand scheme of things.

I distinctly remember not wanting to go to the hospital when I was in labor with my son because I didn’t want to miss work. I was extremely busy. After he died, I couldn’t muster the care to put in case notes or do any of the things I used to stress about. Depression, yes. But also I was so sad that I had wasted so much time and energy on work.

It took until 2016, when my daughter was about 15 months old, for me to recognize I had PTSD, postpartum anxiety and depression. Getting medicated saved my life and sanity. But it also put a bandaid on the problem instead of addressing it. I was living in fight or flight mode, and the meds just made it manageable enough to keep going.

I kept going for four more years.

Then BRIGHT happened. And I realized I couldn’t do it anymore.

Job #2: Adult Education (February 2021 to August 2021)

After BRIGHT ended, I started looking. I found a position with adult education as a partnership coordinator. I went from making a little over $15 an hour with two bachelor’s degrees and over 10 years of experience to making over $23 an hour working from home most of the time.

The stress level was night and day. It was a wonderful opportunity.

Six months in, I found out our local public library had “bought” the local community center. Really they inherited the debt of it. The same community center that housed the community action agency where I used to work. It was a true community hub, and it also had an actual movie theater in it.

The library fired their director. The job was posted.

I used to serve on the board of the library. I thought that meant something. That I understood the organization, that I could handle it. I applied, interviewed, and got the job.

It was my dream job. Or so I thought.

Job #3: The Library (August 2021 to March 2022)

I was the most psyched about my career I’d ever been in my life. This was an opportunity to make history. As far as we knew, we were the only library that was also a community center with a functioning movie theater. I had a vision. I had an amazing co-director who shared that vision. I thought I had a supportive board.

Three months in, I was living a nightmare.

I found out through trusted sources that the people I thought I could trust were actively talking about me. Telling me one thing to my face, then saying something completely different behind my back.

I think everyone forgot I worked at a community action agency during the decline of the coal mining industry as a career coach. People poured their hopes and fears into me and they trusted me, so I had eyes and ears everywhere in the community. I absolutely knew what was happening.

I remember one time seeing the board president, staff members, and former staff members huddled in the theater section. You know that feeling when you walk up and people immediately go silent? Yeah. That.

No one would have a face to face conversation. It was the most passive aggressive environment I’d ever worked in, and it kept getting worse.

In December, while we were redoing wiring and getting ready for Christmas in the Mountains, I found out things that changed everything. Things that make you go oh no, this is bad. I knew I needed to leave.

But here’s where it gets wild. In the midst of all of this chaos, I made an insane decision.

I quit all my anxiety and depression medication.

The Implosion (Or: Feeling Everything for the First Time in Years)

I wanted a clean slate. I wanted to implode my life and feel everything. I hadn’t really felt since 2016 when I started the meds. I was on three different medications, and then suddenly nothing.

I think I went a little insane, honestly. But it was like I’d been swimming underwater and didn’t really feel emotions, and then suddenly I was feeling everything dialed up to 20.

The betrayal. The hurt. The confusion over the library situation. It was almost too much to bear.

At the same time, I was in the process of getting weight loss surgery. I’d started exploring it when I was at adult education, and I was grateful the library had the same insurance so I could move forward with it. I knew being on anxiety and depression meds wasn’t going to be a healthy combo while having bypass, so in my mind what better time to quit my meds and tell no one? Not even my therapist, who would have politely asked if I’d lost my mind.

In February, something crazy happened. The board called a special meeting about my evaluation. The board president dodged me when I asked for a meeting beforehand. Then he ghosted me. Then acted like it was my responsibility to follow up about a meeting he ghosted on.

I made a TikTok because no one would tell me for certain if there was going to be a meeting, but you have to post meetings publicly, so that’s how I found out. There was a sign on the door about it when I walked in.

I came back from lunch one day and saw the special meeting posting. Director evaluation.

The meeting was brutal. They ripped me apart but couldn’t give me specifics on what I needed to improve. They were upset about the budget, as if it was my fault we were hemorrhaging money. This was shocking to me. I’m no mathematician but even I knew we were going to be cutting things razor thin when it came to bills and payroll versus when the tax money comes in. There literally wasn’t anything I could do about it. You knew this when you took control.

And $1,000 that I spent on new Christmas decorations wasn’t going to break the bank. They encouraged me because they wanted a huge presentation and stuff. They questioned the $1,000 I spent on decorations after being encouraged to get new decorations for our first Christmas in the building.

Nothing I did was good enough. And no one would tell me what I was actually doing wrong.

I can’t remember how many director evaluation meetings I had and if the last one was technically a meeting. It was in March. The board president came into my office after I had to leave to take my daughter to the doctor because she got something stuck in her ear. He explained that he knew I was going to get my weight loss surgery the same month in March and I could take it as a leave of absence and then just not come back.

I accepted and wrote the letter and left. My husband came after work to help me load everything up. They told the staff I wasn’t coming back. I really, really wanted a chance to say goodbye and that I was sorry.

I remember getting a pen and paper. I remember crying. I remember being told I should never be in a leadership position because “this wasn’t it.” That I needed to find something that wasn’t leadership.

My husband came by after work, we loaded everything, and I left my keys. I never wanted to return.

It was the single most toxic, traumatic work environment I have ever experienced.

Literally I’m not even joking, the weight loss clinic called right after all this as I was waiting on my husband. This was early 2022 and they were still canceling surgeries because of COVID, so I’d been rescheduled a couple of times. I thought that was what they were calling for, but instead they wanted to move the surgery up. To the next week.

I considered it fate. A true clean slate.

The In Between (March 2022 to September 2022)

I had weight loss surgery in March 2022, less than a week after I left my dream. This was one of the hardest periods of my life to date. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

I went from being very visible in my community, involved and active, to completely nuking all social media and not interacting with anyone. I started evaluating my friendships and acquaintances. I stopped people pleasing.

Losing weight made the food noise go away, and I could finally start working on hobbies like gardening. From March to almost September, I was exploring a side of myself I’d never gotten to explore. I didn’t have to wake up for work. I could spend real time with my daughter without being exhausted.

It was scary and liberating all at once.

I was losing weight and becoming more confident. I completely erased my social media presence. I truly stopped comparing my life to others. I stopped comparing their success to my success. I started realizing what was important to me. What my actual values were.

Peace. Independence. Freedom. Myself.

I stopped people pleasing because I realized my worth didn’t revolve around my output.

When you have gastric bypass and you’re addicted to food like I was, food is your friend, your comfort, your coping mechanism. When you’re stressed, happy, angry, sad, you eat. But I couldn’t anymore. I had to actually process my emotions without meds and without food.

It was transformational. Being content to just be. Not constantly thinking about other people’s perceptions.

By September, I’d lost about 100 pounds.

Job #4: The Call Center (September 2022 to December 2022)

In September, I started a new job. Fully work from home. I was making more as a career coach than I had as the director of a library managing staff.

It was also awful.

Turns out it was basically a call center. You could get a call anytime. It was not for me or my anxiety. The people were great, and for the right person, it would be a great job. But it didn’t meet my values.

I made it three months. I quit in December.

The same month that the economic development authority decided to quit me. Another blindside. This wasn’t even a job by the way, it was a volunteer position I had on the board. I was appointed by the judge executive. I started with economic development in 2020. I enjoyed it despite the politics. It was a great opportunity to try to make a difference and also to understand the politics of my county.

There was a judge executive change, and instead of giving me the courtesy to let me know I was being replaced or removed from the board, they waited to present me with a certificate at the meeting thanking me for my time. It was the most disrespectful interaction ever. But I smiled through it.

But here’s the thing. I’d already applied for my current job in October. I interviewed in December, right after I quit. I heard right before Christmas that I got it.

Job #5: The Dream Job (December 2022 to Present)

My current job is the absolute dream. I’ve never been happier at a job before. It’s everything I want and more.

I think my experiences at the other jobs helped me know what not to do in this job. Set boundaries. Not be afraid to speak up. Take notes like crazy because I have no memory and people can judge that all they want. Learn that your urgency isn’t my emergency and that no one is out to get you because everyone is too involved in their own lives.

I’m three years in now, and I can say with certainty: quitting those three jobs in a row was the best career move I ever made.

What Success Actually Means (Spoiler: It’s Not Linear)

For most of my career, I defined success by paycheck, job title, whether I had an office or business cards. If I got to dress up fancy and if people thought I was important. I thought success was climbing a ladder in a straight line.

That’s not what success is, at least not for me.

For me, success is being truly happy and able to pour from your cup. Success is feeling fulfilled, content, and energized. Success is living according to your actual values, not the values you think you’re supposed to have.

My career path looks chaotic on paper. Community action for 11 years, then adult education for six months, then library director for seven months, then a call center for three months, then my current role.

But it’s not chaotic. It’s iterative. Each step taught me something about what I needed and what I wouldn’t tolerate. Each step got me closer to alignment.

When to Leave (And How to Know)

People always ask me: how did you know it was time to leave?

Here’s what I learned:

It’s time to leave when:

• You’re constantly performing for people who don’t control your career
• The environment is affecting your mental or physical health
• Your values don’t align with the organization’s actual values (not the ones on their website)
• You’re spending more energy managing toxicity than doing actual work
• Growth opportunities don’t exist, and you’ve been explicitly or implicitly told they never will
• You dread going to work more days than you don’t

It’s NOT time to leave just because:

• You had a bad week
• One person is difficult (every workplace has difficult people)
• The work is hard (hard work can be fulfilling)
• You’re not sure what’s next

The difference is: temporary challenges vs. structural problems.

At the community action agency, I stayed four years past when I should have left because it was close to home and familiar. At the library, I stayed as long as I could, but the toxicity was structural and unfixable.

The Freedom in Quitting

Here’s what nobody tells you about quitting: there’s immense freedom in recognizing that staying isn’t serving you.

We’re taught that job-hopping is bad, that loyalty matters, that you should “stick it out.” But loyalty to a toxic environment isn’t virtuous—it’s self-destructive.

I quit three jobs in a row, and each time I got closer to what I actually wanted. Each time I refined my understanding of my values. Each time I practiced setting boundaries and choosing myself.

Could I have done it differently? Maybe. Could I have planned better, saved more, had a job lined up before quitting? Sure.

But I also might not have had the courage to leave if I’d given myself too much time to talk myself out of it.

What I’d Tell Someone Considering Quitting

If you’re reading this and wondering whether you should leave your job, here’s my advice:

1. Get clear on your values. Not what you think they should be—what they actually are. For me, it’s peace, independence, and not living in constant anxiety. What are yours?
2. Evaluate the cost of staying. What is this job costing you in terms of mental health, physical health, time with loved ones, energy for things that matter?
3. Look at the structure, not just the moment. Is this a bad season, or is the environment fundamentally broken?
4. Have a financial cushion if possible. I had about a year’s worth of savings. That privilege allowed me to take risks. If you don’t have that, get creative—can you go part-time? Find contract work? Start building an exit plan?
5. Stop caring what people will think. People will always have opinions. Some people thought I was irresponsible for quitting. Some people thought I was brave. Neither opinion paid my bills or signed my paycheck.
6. Trust that something better exists. I know it sounds like toxic positivity, but it’s true. I went from $15/hour at a place that didn’t value me to my dream job that pays well and aligns with my values. It exists. You just have to be willing to go find it.

Success Isn’t Linear

My career path isn’t a ladder. It’s not even a jungle gym. It’s more like a meandering hike where sometimes you backtrack, sometimes you take a detour, and sometimes you sit down and rest for a while.

And that’s okay.

Actually, it’s better than okay. It’s real.

The narrative that success is linear—that you should climb steadily upward, never step backward, never quit, never change your mind—is a lie that keeps people trapped in situations that don’t serve them.

I quit three jobs in a row. I went off my meds in the middle of a crisis. I had major surgery. I disappeared from my community for months. I started over multiple times.

And now I’m in a job I love, doing work that matters, living according to my actual values.

If that’s not success, I don’t know what is.

The Bottom Line

Quitting isn’t failure. Sometimes, quitting is the bravest, smartest thing you can do.

Success isn’t about the straightest path or the most impressive title or the biggest paycheck. It’s about alignment between your work and your values. It’s about protecting your peace. It’s about being able to look at your life and genuinely feel content.

I quit three jobs in a row, and it was the best career move I ever made.

Not because quitting is always the answer. But because staying in places that were actively harming me was definitely not the answer.

Your career is long. You have time to course-correct. You have time to try things, realize they’re not right, and try something else. You have permission to change your mind, to redefine success, to choose yourself.

Never settle. Keep pushing. Believe that you can find and achieve it.

Because you can.