Finally Quitting That Management Job You Dread

Do you ever fantasize about handing in your notice and walking away from your management job, the one that keeps you up at night, drains your energy, and makes you wonder how you ended up here in the first place?

If you’re still there, there’s probably a reason. Maybe you feel trapped financially. Maybe security is everything to you, and thinking of walking away sends you straight into panic. Maybe people depend on you. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself you “should” be able to handle it.

So what does it really feel like to finally say, “I quit”?

It’s not always the movie version. There’s rarely a dramatic exit, no champagne popping, and no middle-finger farewell to executives who made your life miserable. More often, the feeling is layered, relief mixed with fear, grief, exhaustion, and uncertainty. That fantasy version usually requires a lottery win and zero consequences. For most managers, the experience is far more complicated.

When you’ve poured years, sometimes decades, into a company and identity, walking away hurts. I spent over 20 years with one organization, and It took me three years of second-guessing and talking myself in circles before I finally said I was done.

It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.

And yet, the role was slowly killing me.

I finally hit a wall.

Was I financially “ready”?

No. Not even close.

So the day I resigned didn’t feel like fireworks. It felt like shock mixed with fear, mixed with a strange kind of quiet. The excitement came slowly, like a relief that built over weeks rather than hours.

I started sleeping again. I felt more like myself. And even though the money pressure was real, I knew I had finally done the right thing.

If you’ve ever given notice, you know the weird in-between that happens next. You’re still showing up. You still have meetings. You still have responsibilities. You’re half out the door but still performing. Those last weeks can feel like limbo, a tug-of-war between dread, relief, fear, and possibility.

But then the final day comes.

And when I walked out for the last time, I could finally breathe. Really breathe. My future felt uncertain, but it also felt like mine again. I was willing to face whatever came next, just to know I wasn’t trapped in a role that never fit me in the first place.

Quitting a management job you dread isn’t about weakness, or “not being able to handle it.” Sometimes it’s about finally admitting the truth:

You deserve a life that doesn’t require constant pressure, performance, and pretending.

And sometimes the bravest thing a manager can do…

is choose themselves.