When You Think About Quitting

When You Think About Quitting

There are days when the question creeps in quietly:
Could I do something else?
Would it be easier to start over?
Is this still the life I want to lead?

Not dramatic. Not loud. Just a low hum of doubt sitting beneath the noise of your calendar, your closings, your next showing.

When that feeling shows up — and it will — the goal isn’t to silence it.
The goal is to listen underneath it.

Because most of the time, what we call quitting is something softer and more human: the longing to feel like yourself inside the work again.

Last week, I gave a client two writing prompts:

First, I asked her to free-write an alternate career. Anything. Dreamy, practical, absurd — didn’t matter.
Then, I asked her to write a love letter to herself, the real estate agent. Not to her achievements or brand. To the part of her that chose this work in the first place.

She was hesitant, a little cynical, and then — completely in it. Ten minutes later, she looked up with tears in her eyes and said, “I don’t want to leave. I just want to find my way back.”

That’s the moment. That’s the truth under the spiral.

I’ve had it too.
Years ago, I almost walked away from the thing I built. Not because I didn’t love the work — but because I was scaling something I hadn’t paused to ask if I even wanted. I wasn’t burned out. I was disconnected. And it wasn’t quitting that saved me. It was getting quiet, getting honest, and getting clear.

I see this all the time in the agents, leaders, and founders I coach. The question isn’t should I quit? The real question is usually what part of this stopped feeling like mine?

So if you’re in the in-between — not fully out, not fully in — start here:

Ask yourself:

  • If I left tomorrow, what would I honestly miss?
     
  • What part of this work do I miss?
  • When was the last time I felt fully present and proud?
  • What do I admire in other careers, and what does that tell me?
  • Am I burned out, or am I bored?

And then write:

  • What else would I do, just to explore? (No pressure. Just imagine.)
  • Why do I love this work, still? (Even the small parts.)

Let it be raw. Let it be unpolished. You’re not writing a decision — you’re writing your way back to the truth.

You don’t have to leave.
But you do have to listen.

You don’t have to overhaul everything.
But you do have permission to question the version you’re in.

Don’t quit before you ask better questions.
Don’t walk away before you rewrite the parts that don’t fit.
You are allowed to reshape the thing you once said yes to.

That’s not quitting. That’s leading.

– Molly B.

Founder & CEO, Molly B. Townsend Coaching & Consulting
[email protected]