
Why a job is like a relationship
We spend 8 hours per weekday (haha, we all know it’s longer than that) at our job. That’s roughly half of our waking time that we spend at work (on weekdays) – probably as much (if not more) time as we spend with our significant other.
So doesn’t it follow that a job would have a significance to us, that’s on par with that of a relationship?
And therefore, quitting a job would have a similar impact on us as breaking up in a relationship?
Think about it – handing in your letter of resignation is like asking for a breakup (emotionally charged), and you often wonder if you should have stayed. That’s if it was a pleasant departure. If it’s a rage-quit, then you risk carrying that unresolved baggage into your next job.
Quitting a job isn’t just a professional decision. It’s highly emotional because there’s so much attachment. Even a mutually agreeable departure sees you walking away from roles, routines, and relationships.
Most resources about leaving jobs focus on involuntary departures, ie. being retrenched or fired, leaving because of a lousy boss, or leaving because you’ve been forced to leave.
But there are few resources about leaving a job voluntarily. And that hurts as well, because no matter what, it’s about removing a huge piece of your life. Even if it’s voluntary, even if you’re going to replace that huge piece, even if you wanted it – it’s going to hurt. It’s going to need processing.
And that’s what this article is about. What to do when you quit your job voluntarily.

The science of why quitting feels like a breakup (even when it was your idea)
For many people, their job becomes part of their identity over time – because of self-categorisation theory (Turner et al., 1987). What this means is that we absorb the groups we belong to, such as our department or company culture, into our sense of self.
Related to this is social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979) (same Turner as self-categorisation theory!) which posits that a person’s sense of who they are is derived from the groups to which they belong – such as workplace groups.
So leaving those groups is akin to removing our identity on two levels. Think about the times you’ve left friend or social groups – it may have been a good and healthy decision, but it leaves a void for a while as you struggle to figure out who you are again.
Then there’s the social rejection aspect. Leaving a role is a form of imagined social rejection (because you are no longer part of the group, that your role was in), and social rejection activates the same brain areas as physical pain (Eisenberger et al., 2003).
In the workplace context, role entrapment (Spanger et al., 1978) is a psychological state that explains why people feel compelled to stay in jobs, even after outgrowing their positions. It could be due to emotional bonds, organisational ties, and/or perceived expectations, usually stemming from a strong sense of loyalty, personal investment, and/or the fear of letting go. It’s partially to do with anxious attachment styles, but that’s another topic for another day.
A study done on employees facing a voluntary closure of their workplace showed that clear grief reactions were observed, even though they were not voluntarily terminated (Blau, 2008). This shows that voluntarily accepted endings can also evoke grief, which means people who quit will also go through the Kübler-Ross stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and exploration).
So yes – the science supports it. To recap, these are the evidence-based reasons for why quitting your job feels like a breakup:
- Self-categorisation theory (Turner et al., 1987)
- Social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979)
- Social rejection activating the same brain area as physical pain (Eisenberger et al., 2003)
- Role entrapment (Spanger et al., 1978)
- Voluntarily accepted endings evoke grief (Blau, 2008)

The impact on wellbeing
Using the PERMAH model of wellbeing (Positive Emotions, Engagement, Positive Relationships, Meaning, Accomplishments, and Health), we can also see why leaving a job impacts us as heavily as it does. It impacts so many parts of our wellbeing.
Engagement: If your work has been fulfilling and keeping you in flow, leaving also means removing the circumstances that gave you flow.
Positive Relationships: If your work relationships have been a source of support and joy, then leaving means voluntarily reducing the time in those relationships.
Meaning: If your work has been aligned with your purpose and your big “why”, then leaving also means you are removing actions that contribute to your purpose.
Accomplishments: If you have been proud of what you do at work, then leaving means you’re leaving what you’re proud of and what you’ve built.
When I left a beloved company voluntarily, it was heart-wrenching. I was giving up the opportunity to impact young minds (Engagement), many good friends who had supported me through times (Positive Relationships), the idea that learning could be and should be joyous (Meaning), and all the creative lessons and fun workshops I had built over the years (Accomplishments). Even talking about it now isn’t all that easy.

The emotional rollercoaster of voluntarily quitting
There are a billion mixed emotions that come with quitting. Here were mine:
- Relief: I finally made this tough decision!
- Doubt: Did I make the right decision?
- Empowerment: I was strong enough to make the right decision!
- Guilt: Am I being ungrateful for leaving?
- Nostalgia: I have so many good memories in this place…
- Disappointment: Why did I make such a suboptimal decision?
- Hope: I can try out all the things I didn’t have time for!
- Revenge fantasy: Now they’ll know what it’s like without me!
I added revenge fantasies because come on, everyone wants to think that they made an impact on their organisation, and making an impact means life will be more difficult without you.
So here are my five steps to healing. Because that’s what you really need, even though you left voluntarily.

Step 1: Create closure
There is always, always, always a right way to breakup. And that’s to do it in a classy, mature way. Be clear, kind, and professional in your letter of resignation. Explain how the company has impacted you positively. Make it clear that it’s a decision of growth (or perhaps healing and space) that you’re making.
For yourself, you should also acknowledge your emotions. All your emotions. There’s a rollercoaster of them, remember? This means journalling, talking it through, processing it. For me… I cried on the MRT when I tried to titrate my emotions (so no it wasn’t really a titration, it was more like floodgates). I’m not advocating that you cry on the MRT, but that you process them so you don’t cry on the MRT. I think I also teared up at my farewell dinner.
Creating a breakup ritual is also important. Rituals are important because they mark transitions in our life. I don’t mean that you go and create a talisman or suddenly draw mandalas. By ritual, I mean an intentional action that you take to mark the end. This could be taking a final walk through the office. It could be literally saying goodbye to your desk. Maybe it’s even just having a quiet final coffee with a colleague. The point is to mark the ending on purpose.
What I did was to have a steak dinner and pretend that the company was eating with me. I personified the company, talked to it like a person, and did everything short of ordering a steak for her (because it would end up being uneaten and I’m not going to eat two steaks). It was a breakup ritual that helped me say the things I couldn’t say to any colleague, and it helped release some of the emotions I had.
On the positive psychology side, you can also write a gratitude letter which you don’t have to send. You can write about the skills you gained, the people whom you learnt from, and the weird things you’ll miss. The objective is to express gratitude, which boosts your emotional resilience and long-term productivity (Seligman et al., 2005).

Step 2: Create harmony
Just like with a breakup, don’t ghost the company or colleagues. You need your space, yes, but remember that harmony is important – for you as well.
In your exit interview (wow I have not done that in a while but someone reminded me that this exists) you can provide appreciative feedback. Remember the gratitude letter earlier? Express portions that you are comfortable with. This helps to show that it was a positive experience for you.
Update everyone – your network, especially. Send an appreciative goodbye email. Connect with your colleagues on LinkedIn, if you haven’t. Write a public post about your departure, and all the good things that happened during your tenure. For me, I wrote a long Instagram post about all the things I was proud of doing at my company when I left.

Step 3: Turn closure into productivity
So Step 1 was mainly about closure – for a reason. You see, when your brain gets psychological closure, it gains the space to move on. Closure gives your brain focus, increases working memory, and lets you make sharper decisions (Webster & Kruglanski, 1994).
What I recommend is this. Take that pause. Take that rest. Take that period of doing nothing. Even if it’s as short as 3 days, it’ll help you recalibrate both your attention and your motivation.
Then set a plan. For me, I needed to heal from some experiences. I created a list of activities I needed to do to heal, and a timeframe to do them in. For you, you can set a 30-60-90 day plan. Don’t put goals there – put actions that you will commit to taking. Adding goals just feels like you’re throwing yourself into work again, but adding actions create habits and routines that will be more sustainable.
And finally, savour. Savour what the future will bring. Savour the new things you will build, the new job you are embarking on, the new life that you will be living. Feel good about what is ahead. The positive emotions generated will broaden your thinking and boost problem-solving (Fredrickson, 2009), which will be universally applicable to any new job.

Step 4: Post-quit self-care
There are emotions, and they have to be heard. This is where the self-care comes in. Even if you’re delighted in your new role, give space for when you need it. If you never need it, it’s great. But if you need to – now’s the time.
It boils down to doing nice things for yourself. Take a morning walk. Eat that new McDonald’s burger that they just promoted. Buy (judiciously) that small gift you always wanted.
Scheduling the self-care. Make a list of people you know you can call if you need to. Schedule in morning walks in the park. Arrange appointments for the things you love, like massages or D&D games.
Then rebuild self-care routines. Micro-habits like maybe a daily cup of non-caffeinated fruit tea before you sleep. You could also create your top 3 priorities each morning. Meditation, even a 5-minute deep breathing session with long exhales, is helpful.
It’s good to self-care. It’s not indulgence.

Step 5: Reframe the narrative
Reframing the narrative isn’t just for your next employer or client. It’s for yourself. It’s how you make meaning of your departure. It’s about the story you tell yourself.
Take the time to revise it, to frame it, to construct it. I’m not saying to create a bald-faced lie about how you’re indispensable. But it’s important that internally, you embody the reason why you left – so that when you tell others why you left, it comes out authentically. Sequence it properly, explain things when you need to, and make it clear why it happened and why it had to happen for you to become better.
I know that you probably had your reasons for leaving voluntarily, and they may all be positive ones. But what I’m saying here is to look at it from the perspective of the totality of your life, and make sense of it from there. Make sense of this event in the overall narrative of your life, so that when you tell that story, people can understand the context and big picture.

A breakup can be a breakthrough
To recap:
- Step 1: Create closure
- Step 2: Create harmony
- Step 3: Turn closure into producitivity
- Step 4: Post-quit self-care
- Step 5: Reframe the narrative
Quitting your job voluntarily is going to hurt. It’s not so much about minimising the pain, but letting it breathe – letting yourself feel the hurt. It’s not the same as breaking up with a friend because when you depart willingly, it’s often for growth. It’s often for something bigger, something more.
But all change is loss, and loss means grief. What we can do is to acknowledge that grief, acknowledge our humanity, acknowledge all the good things we’re leaving behind.
And then move forward, and embrace the future that awaits.

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References

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