Why “just quit your job” is incomplete advice
“If your job makes you miserable, just quit. Stop compromising yourself. You’ll thank yourself later.”
That kind of advice makes for compelling social media videos because it is much easier to turn into an inspirational message that ties into your emotions, rather than start a conversation about rent, dependents, savings, and what happens when you’re suddenly missing your paychecks.
But being able to leave a job without another source of income is a privileged position. Not everyone can afford six months or a year without work. Some people can’t even afford to miss a single paycheck.
I talk a lot about knowing your values and standing on your own ground. When I work with someone individually, that conversation also includes the reality of their life. Who depends on them? How stable are their finances? If taking a stand at work cost them their job, what would happen next? This changes how we approach our work together.
Advice about refusing to compromise is incomplete if it ignores the consequences someone might have to live with.
Sometimes you need to take contract work. Sometimes you accept a job that you already know isn’t a great fit because it buys you time to find something better. You may even recognize unhealthy conditions in the next workplace and still need the income it offers.
That can be a painful decision. It can also be a decision you make to keep yourself and the people you love safe with a roof over everyone’s head.
Can a compromise protect something important to me?
When I talk about safety here, I mean the basics: food, somewhere to sleep, a roof over your head, and the ability to care for the people who depend on you. Those needs belong in any real and direct conversation about your career.
Take this example…imagine that Family and Fairness are two of your core values. You work somewhere that treats you unfairly, but the paycheck keeps your family housed and fed.
Staying may compromise your value of fairness while protecting your value of family. Knowing that doesn’t make the unfair treatment acceptable, but it helps explain why leaving isn’t a simple decision.
Sometimes the tension exists within the same value.
If family is important to you, a job that regularly takes away your evenings and weekends can interfere with living that value. You miss dinners, conversations, and time with the people you care about. But at the same time, the income from that job allows you to provide for those very people.
The job supports your family and takes you away from your family. Two things can be true at the same time. Holding those truths at the same time, even when competing, is part of the human condition.
You cannot always resolve that tension by deciding to be more committed to your values. You may already be deeply committed to them. That is part of why the decision hurts.
Do my core values have to guide every decision?
Humans are flexible. We do not fit neatly into a box and I don’t believe a values exercise should put us in one.
This is why, alongside five core values, I teach proximity and perimeter values. These are other values that matter to you, even if they aren’t the five you identify with most strongly.
In some circumstances, you may need to lean on one of those supporting values. Perhaps your current job gives you very little opportunity to express several of your core values, but you still need the paycheck. A proximity or perimeter value may offer another way to find something meaningful or grounding in the work while you figure out what comes next.
It may not give you the same sense of alignment as a core value. It may still help you get through this period with a little more of yourself intact.
I explain that wider model in What is a values card sort, and why does it matter?. The point of the exercise is to understand yourself well enough to navigate the circumstances you actually face.
Flexibility doesn’t make every situation acceptable, but it just gives you more than one place to stand when your options are limited.
And… since humans can’t be squeezed into boxes… sometimes you can throw it all out the window and do what you just need to do - whatever that looks like for you.
How do I protect myself when I still need the paycheck?
Sometimes your relationship with a job needs to become very practical: you are there because you need the income.
That can coexist with doing your work responsibly. But… and the really big but… it doesn’t require giving the company authority over your worth as a person.
A central part of the identity work I do with clients is helping them separate who they are from the work they do. When those things are deeply entangled, the chaos of the workplace can start to feel like a judgment about who they are. Knowing yourself can create some space between those two experiences, even while the conditions remain difficult.
You also need as much room as you can get to protect yourself outside of work so that you can recover, rest, relax, and reconnect with your life (those 4 “Rs” were a coincidence, but I like them!).
I recognize the tension in that advice, too. The very job you need to recover from may be taking the time and energy you need to recover.
So we start with what is possible in your circumstances.
The purpose is to preserve enough of yourself to keep going and, where possible, take steps toward a more sustainable situation. You shouldn’t have to disappear into a job just because you need what it pays.
Am I being honest about what this compromise costs?
One thing I think we do too little of is reflecting honestly on the cost of a compromise.
When we need the paycheck, admitting just how much the job hurts can be difficult. For instance, we may downplay what happened, minimize its impact, or find reasons to excuse someone else’s behavior. Or worse… we might even turn someone else’s treatment of us into a judgment about ourselves.
Imagine telling your manager that you’re overloaded and asking for help prioritizing. They reply, “That’s part of your job. You should know how to do that.” Or they tell you that “everything needs to get done” without helping you work through the competing demands.
You leave the conversation wondering whether you’re competent enough. Maybe you aren’t capable. Maybe, if you were just a tiny bit more resilient, you could handle it all. Maybe…maybe…maybe…
So first, you asked for support and didn’t receive it… and now you’re using that experience as evidence that something is wrong with you.
It is worth separating those things. A manager’s refusal to help is not, by itself, proof that you lack ability. You can examine the workload and the support available (or not available) without accepting their response as a verdict on your worth.
Being honest about the cost also means allowing yourself to say: “I need this job right now, and the way I am being treated is hurting me.”
You don’t have to make the second part untrue to justify the first.
What can I do with that understanding?
Take one compromise you’re making at work and write down three things:
- What it protects: The income, stability, responsibility, or value that makes this choice necessary or worthwhile right now.
- What it costs: The time, energy, confidence, relationships, or values that are being stepped on.
- What would make the situation more sustainable: Something you could protect now, support you could seek, or a step toward having more options.
This is just a way to see the situation more clearly without excusing it or blaming yourself for needing to survive it. Externalizing this onto a piece of paper can be a powerful mechanism that even alone can help us take the steps we need.
In my work with clients, knowing who they are and what a life aligned with their values could look like can become especially useful alongside an honest account of what the current situation is costing them. For some people, that combination creates motivation to begin making changes.
You may need to keep making the compromise for now while slowly working towards something better… that’s the reality of life.
We just don’t want to be permanently stuck.
