Quitter, Quitter, Quitter!

When I think of being a quitter I think of the painful scene in the movie Eat, Pray, Love when Liz Gilbert’s soon to be ex-husband, mid-divorce negotiations sings a song with only one lyric, “quitter, quitter, quitter” over and over.

No one wants to see themselves as a quitter, but sometimes the wise option is to walk away, and quitting is the most direct route. There is a broad spectrum of giving up, from ‘this is tough; I’m out’ to ‘I have done everything within my power to make this work, and it is clear to me that no amount of effort will be enough.’ Many things influence your tolerance for working at it. We all recognize the moment it’s time. We don’t always act. Yesterday I quit my job.

I didn’t storm out, or disappear (my fantasy) I gave notice in a nice civilized manner, and my resignation was accepted equally calmly and nicely. I will spend eight more days doing work I thought I’d love, but don’t, working somewhere I thought I’d find a home, and did not. I will do my best until I am done. I am no quitter.

If you lie, you are a liar, if you are unfaithful you are a cheater, but does quitting this, or any job make me a quitter? And if it does, what does it mean to be a quitter? The Cambridge dictionary defines quitter as follows: a person who gives up easily instead of finishing something, and I am not someone who gives up easily. I prefer to see myself as someone who recognizes when something isn’t working, and rather than waste my or anyone else’s time, takes action to rectify the situation, which in this case is to walk (not run) away. I have quit, but I have not surrendered.

I have good reasons for reaching this decision, and have no regrets, but even knowing it was the best thing for both me and the organization, I struggled with my decision until the last minute. I have quit other jobs, for a variety of reasons from relocating to feeling I had no choice, but this time it felt different. This time staying felt as uncomfortable as leaving. I don’t recall feeling so out of place in a job as I’ve felt in this one. To say it wasn’t a good fit is a profound understatement. I am fortunate to have another job waiting for me, because I’m not sure how much longer I could have endured staying.

Because it is my wont to take the blame for any situation that doesn’t work out, I have been berating myself for the last couple of months. In my more rational moments I can take a step (or twenty) back, and see the many reasons this wasn’t going to work out, from the salary to the actual work which was too physically demanding, to the culture which was the most uncomfortable aspect for me, as well as the greatest surprise. Why did I feel I was failing them, when I felt they were as unhappy with me as I was with them?

Now that it’s over and I’ve had the conversation I was dreading, I realize that leaving isn’t quitting; staying would have been. Staying would have meant selling myself cheaply, compromising who I am, and what is important to me. Staying would have meant I’d have to quit being the person I have put decades into becoming. Staying in the wrong job, relationship or place, physical or metaphysical is the ultimate surrender of yourself, and that is something I have done too many times, and I will never do again. I will not quit on me.