Date: April 22, 2025
Author: Emily Clarke
I fantasize about quitting my job every waking moment, but the truth is, it’s not as simple as just walking away. It’s something that has been with me for as long as I can remember: the pressure to succeed, to be more than just “good enough,” to prove that all the hard work is worth it. I’m in my thirties now, and I’ve spent my entire adult life caught in this mental loop of achievement and expectations.
Growing up in a middle-class family with two younger siblings, I always felt like I had to set the example. My dad worked tirelessly as a blue-collar worker, and my mom, while incredibly loving, was always tied to the house, raising us and managing the daily grind. We weren’t rich, but we were comfortable enough that I was able to go to college, get a degree, and, like everyone around me, aim for a career. But somewhere along the way, a seed was planted in my mind: if I wasn’t constantly working, constantly striving for more, then I wasn’t doing enough.
My parents didn’t say it outright, but the messages were clear. They’d always talk about the sacrifices they made for us to have a better life. How important it was to make something of ourselves, to climb higher than they did. So, naturally, I took this to heart. I got straight As, I went to a good university, and I landed a decent job right out of school. But the truth is, despite all the outward signs of success, I felt like I was always chasing something that was just out of reach.
I know I’m not alone in this feeling. It’s like society has this unspoken agreement that if you’re not climbing, you’re falling behind. And it’s hard to escape that mentality, especially when you’re surrounded by people who seem to be doing everything right: moving up in their careers, buying houses, traveling the world. Meanwhile, I’m stuck in this endless cycle of doing just enough to stay afloat, but never truly getting ahead. Every day, I wonder if this is really what life is supposed to be—doing something I barely enjoy just to keep up appearances.
The fantasy of quitting my job has become a daily daydream, one that stretches into all sorts of possible scenarios. I imagine what it would be like to just pack my things, leave the office, and never look back. Maybe I’d travel. Maybe I’d write. Maybe I’d start a business. But then reality hits. I think about the consequences—the rent, the bills, the responsibilities that never seem to stop piling up. I think about the expectations that weigh on me, the fear of disappointing my parents, my colleagues, and myself. I think about the fear of being seen as a failure, of not living up to the success that everyone expects of me.
It’s exhausting. This constant need to prove myself. This idea that I need to always be more than I am, that I need to hustle harder, work longer, achieve more. It’s so ingrained in me that I don’t even know who I am without it. And yet, the thought of escaping it all—the idea of waking up in the morning and not having to check my email, not having to rush to meetings, not having to constantly worry about the next step—feels like a distant dream.
I know quitting isn’t the solution. There are bills to pay, dreams to fulfill, people to answer to. But every now and then, when I feel like I’m on the verge of burning out, I allow myself to indulge in that fantasy. I close my eyes and imagine a life where I’m not defined by my job, where I’m not constantly trying to outrun my own expectations. It’s a fleeting thought, but it’s enough to give me the mental break I need to get through another day. Maybe one day, I’ll find a way to balance the drive for success with the need for peace. But for now, I’ll continue to fantasize and wonder if there’s a way to truly escape it all.
