Let’s Normalize Quitting

Hi, I’m Meredith and I’m a quitter. But in my world, that’s something to be proud of. I was raised in a family that saw quitting as a perfectly normal reaction to things that aren’t a good fit, instead of a character flaw.

The first thing I remember quitting was the “Book-it” program in elementary school. For anyone who wasn’t in elementary school in the 80’s - this was a reading incentive program where every book you read earned you points toward free Pizza Hut Pizza.

I was an avid, self-motivated reader and as soon as my love of reading became tracked, and gamified, I hated it and started to hate books.

“So don’t do it,” my parents said. “We’ll get pizza anytime you want. Just keep reading for fun.”

My teachers and classmates were stunned when instead of running to update my book total every morning I would just shrug and say I didn’t keep track. Teachers saw me as difficult and classmates saw me as weird, but I didn’t care because I was enjoying reading again.

Quitting Helped me Form my Identity 

The summer before sixth grade I signed up for softball, not knowing that everyone else had been playing since pre-school. I was ready to quit after the second practice because of my utter lack of both athletic ability and competitiveness.

My parents supported my decision that softball was not a fit, but suggested I stick it out for the season so as not to hurt my team.

Having already made peace with the fact that softball (or team sports in general) wasn’t for me, I had very little ego involvement in my performance, and my self-esteem remained (mostly) undamaged from my teammates' disappointment in my inability to hit or catch a ball under any circumstances.

My attitude was “Hey, at least you didn’t have to forfeit because you didn’t have enough players!” 

Those 12 weeks of softball left no scars, but it could easily have gone the other way. Instead, I learned to recognize and accept my limitations and weaknesses, as well as my strengths.

I have quit a million other things since then while I actively worked to figure out who I was and how I wanted to exist in the world. And I’ve got some great stories for another time ;-)

When quitting is normalized it's really easy to try things out and then make adjustments without fear of massive consequences, or that it’s a negative character assessment.

Let’s Stop Glorifying Suffering

The opposite of quitting, I’ve come to believe, is glorifying suffering and doubling down on bad situations.

I don’t quit just because something is hard or scary or new. I quit when it’s clear things aren’t going to improve.

I’m not suddenly going to learn how to catch a ball or care who wins the game. If my boss is a misogynist or a bully, I’m not going to stay and continue to be belittled, gaslighted, or harassed. If I’m sure that I’m stuck with this boss and that they aren’t going to change, I see no point in staying and suffering.

Part of normalizing quitting is normalizing forming identities and self-esteem that are independent of jobs and titles and external rewards.

Because my sense of self is not influenced by the work I do or the way I support myself, it’s not scary to quit bad jobs because I know I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn money to support myself and not feel like a failure.

I’ve had more intense feelings of failure when I’ve stayed in a bad job for too long, then when I’ve been broke, or when I was the only person on the cleaning crew with a master’s degree.

Quitting is a Power Move

The older and more experienced I become, the faster I'm able to identify or predict when a situation isn’t a fit, so actually quitting happens less often.

But every CEO day that Jennifer and I have, includes discussions about what’s working and what isn’t.

What needs to change, or get dropped and I absolutely credit that mindset with fueling our growth from a 4 figure company to a 6 figure company in less than a year. 

That’s the power in normalizing quitting. 

What is the best thing you ever quit? Or something you WISH you had quit?!