On knowing when it's time to walk away.

Sometimes letting go isn’t failure, it’s freedom.

“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today? And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”
- Steve Jobs

We like to tell ourselves that persistence is everything. That if we just push harder, stick it out longer, keep grinding, we’ll get where we want to go. We glorify resilience, hustle, and grit. We subscribe to the age-old cliché, never give up.

But sometimes the strongest, bravest thing you can do is walk away.

Not because you failed. Not because you couldn’t hack it. But because something in you knows, this chapter is done.

Knowing when to stay and when to leave is one of the hardest discernments we face in work, in relationships, in projects, in dreams. How do you tell the difference between a hard season and a dead end? Between growth and depletion? Between necessary discomfort and something that’s simply no longer right?

If you have to keep twisting yourself into someone you’re not to make it work, it’s probably time to go.

If the cost of staying is your health, your joy, your integrity, your sense of self, it’s probably time to go.

If you’re holding on out of fear of what people will say, fear of what it means to “quit,” fear of starting over, it’s definitely time to take a hard, honest look.

Walking away isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s knowing that your time, your energy, your one wild and precious life is too valuable to waste on things that no longer fit.

I’ve walked away from things I once thought I’d never leave. And yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s painful. Yes, it’s hard to let go of something you’ve poured yourself into. But every time I’ve closed one door, a new one has opened. Every time I’ve released what was no longer mine to carry, I’ve made space for something more aligned, more expansive, more me.

So if you’re sitting at the edge of a hard decision today, here’s what I want to tell you:

You are not failing by walking away.

You are not weak for letting go.

You are allowed to choose yourself, your peace, your next chapter.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop holding on.