The Other Side
It’s January, 2026 - two years since the day that I left my career as I knew it and started on this new journey. This time has been an amazing gift, and I’m continuing to use it to experience new things and follow different paths. This month I can’t help but reflect on the decision that made such an impact on my life and happiness.
Instead I had a conversation that led to me quitting. At the time, it could have seemed like it was a reaction to something specific that someone else said. But the truth is that it was something that I had thought about often.
I’d been frustrated with my career for a long time. I kept trying to make improvements - I tried different project types, different roles, and different firms. I asked for changes that didn’t happen. I felt badly about everything - my job, my life, myself. When I considered leaving the firm where I worked, I talked myself out of it because I assumed that things would be pretty much the same anywhere else. When I considered leaving the profession, I froze. I told myself all of the reasons I had to stay, mostly a lot of questions that were driven by fear. Some were practical, like what would happen to my bank account? Some were emotional, like what would people think of me? But my biggest fears were what was on the other side of architecture and could I ever go back?
When I decided to take a break from architecture, it wasn’t because I had conquered my fears. Once I left my job, without a plan, it was obvious that I needed to take some time before going to another firm. It was with time I was finally able to start answering those big scary questions, and I realized I wasn’t afraid anymore.
What’s on the other side?
I believed that “when one door closes, another one opens” meant that the other door had to open first. I always thought that before I could leave my job, I needed to have another one lined up. If I was going to exit the industry, I needed a plan for what came next. Meanwhile, with my energy completely focused on being an architect, I wasn’t capable of even considering other opportunities. Architecture was the only thing I knew, and I feared that there was nothing on the other side. I didn’t think there was anything else I would be interested in or good enough to do for a living.
It was only by throwing myself into a state of unknown that I was able to start to explore new paths. It was not a practical decision to leave my job without knowing what was next, but apparently for me, it was the only way that I was going to do it.
When I left my job I was immediately filled with a sense of grief and relief. Grief for the life and career that I had planned for myself that had never fully formed. Relief for the parts of me that were frustrated and working on overdrive. I still feared what came next, but was able to accept that it needed to be something other than architecture.
Within a few weeks I was ready to consider other options. My mind was less occupied, my heart was open, and I finally had time and energy that was previously scarce. I redefined “opportunity”, no longer limited to career or architecture or moneymaking, and I started to see opportunities all around me: writing classes, art projects, new recipes, time with friends and family.
I shared in this post about how I started working at a local garden center a few months later. It was only by freeing myself from the constraints of what I thought my career had to be that I was able to gain this new experience. I’ve learned that the “other side” is what you make it and I no longer need to fear it.
Can I ever go back?
When I considered leaving architecture and questioned whether I would ever be able to return, I questioned if they would allow me to return. I thought the door would slam shut and lock behind me. When the time came and I wanted to return, I thought I would have to ask for permission, that they would have to open the door for me.
I was afraid that if I admitted that I wasn’t happy with my career previously, that no one would want to take a chance on hiring me in the future. I was afraid that if I spent too much time away, I would lose all of the skills that made me relevant.
After I left, I believed that it was me who slammed the door shut and threw away the key. I was hurting and couldn’t see a time when I would feel differently. I thought I would never want to return. It was no longer a question of whether they would allow me to come back but whether I would allow myself.
As I worked through those painful emotions and considered the possibility of returning, the fear started to creep back in. Understandably, I was concerned that I made myself unhirable. But I had found something on the other side that I enjoyed doing, embraced it, and accepted that if I could never return to architecture, I would be okay.
an early September morning drive to the greenhouse, enjoying the sunrise
The day I quit my job, I wasn’t planning on it. I didn’t go in with my two week notice, with a job lined up after my last day. I was angry. I was planning to work a half day, go home for the holiday break, and use the time off to consider what to do - something had to change. It’s very possible that I would have returned on January 2 with my notice in hand.
Instead I had a conversation that led to me quitting. At the time, it could have seemed like it was a reaction to something specific that someone else said. But the truth is that it was something that I had thought about often.
I’d been frustrated with my career for a long time. I kept trying to make improvements - I tried different project types, different roles, and different firms. I asked for changes that didn’t happen. I felt badly about everything - my job, my life, myself. When I considered leaving the firm where I worked, I talked myself out of it because I assumed that things would be pretty much the same anywhere else. When I considered leaving the profession, I froze. I told myself all of the reasons I had to stay, mostly a lot of questions that were driven by fear. Some were practical, like what would happen to my bank account? Some were emotional, like what would people think of me? But my biggest fears were what was on the other side of architecture and could I ever go back?
When I decided to take a break from architecture, it wasn’t because I had conquered my fears. Once I left my job, without a plan, it was obvious that I needed to take some time before going to another firm. It was with time I was finally able to start answering those big scary questions, and I realized I wasn’t afraid anymore.
⚘⚘⚘
I believed that “when one door closes, another one opens” meant that the other door had to open first. I always thought that before I could leave my job, I needed to have another one lined up. If I was going to exit the industry, I needed a plan for what came next. Meanwhile, with my energy completely focused on being an architect, I wasn’t capable of even considering other opportunities. Architecture was the only thing I knew, and I feared that there was nothing on the other side. I didn’t think there was anything else I would be interested in or good enough to do for a living.
It was only by throwing myself into a state of unknown that I was able to start to explore new paths. It was not a practical decision to leave my job without knowing what was next, but apparently for me, it was the only way that I was going to do it.
When I left my job I was immediately filled with a sense of grief and relief. Grief for the life and career that I had planned for myself that had never fully formed. Relief for the parts of me that were frustrated and working on overdrive. I still feared what came next, but was able to accept that it needed to be something other than architecture.
Within a few weeks I was ready to consider other options. My mind was less occupied, my heart was open, and I finally had time and energy that was previously scarce. I redefined “opportunity”, no longer limited to career or architecture or moneymaking, and I started to see opportunities all around me: writing classes, art projects, new recipes, time with friends and family.
I shared in this post about how I started working at a local garden center a few months later. It was only by freeing myself from the constraints of what I thought my career had to be that I was able to gain this new experience. I’ve learned that the “other side” is what you make it and I no longer need to fear it.
When I considered leaving architecture and questioned whether I would ever be able to return, I questioned if they would allow me to return. I thought the door would slam shut and lock behind me. When the time came and I wanted to return, I thought I would have to ask for permission, that they would have to open the door for me.
I was afraid that if I admitted that I wasn’t happy with my career previously, that no one would want to take a chance on hiring me in the future. I was afraid that if I spent too much time away, I would lose all of the skills that made me relevant.
After I left, I believed that it was me who slammed the door shut and threw away the key. I was hurting and couldn’t see a time when I would feel differently. I thought I would never want to return. It was no longer a question of whether they would allow me to come back but whether I would allow myself.
As I worked through those painful emotions and considered the possibility of returning, the fear started to creep back in. Understandably, I was concerned that I made myself unhirable. But I had found something on the other side that I enjoyed doing, embraced it, and accepted that if I could never return to architecture, I would be okay.
Over time, I also started to redefine “opportunity” in regards to architecture. Although I didn’t want to return to the same position I held previously, I was still interested in practicing in some way. With an open mind and open heart, I started to see opportunities that long ago I wouldn’t have even noticed.
Starting over has given me the freedom to change what a career in architecture means to me. With new goals and a changed mindset, even though I’m doing a lot of the same daily tasks that I did two years ago, the way I am experiencing it and the potential that I see for my career looks very different. I am now focused on finding (or creating) the proper environment where I can not only exist but also flourish, in-and-outside of architecture.
I’ve always hated the question “where do you see yourself in five years”. Five years ago I never would have guessed that I would be building a new career at a greenhouse, or that I would be happy in a role at an architecture firm that didn’t include leading projects. I wouldn’t have guessed that I would be spending as much time as I do cooking, that I would be taking art and enrichment classes in the middle of a weekday, or that I would enjoy long winter walks.
The day I quit my job, the person across from me said something that pushed me to leave. I was hurt, and part of me still carries that with me. But now I am grateful for it, because if it weren't for that pain, I would not be living the life that I am enjoying today.
Starting over has given me the freedom to change what a career in architecture means to me. With new goals and a changed mindset, even though I’m doing a lot of the same daily tasks that I did two years ago, the way I am experiencing it and the potential that I see for my career looks very different. I am now focused on finding (or creating) the proper environment where I can not only exist but also flourish, in-and-outside of architecture.
⚘⚘⚘
I’ve always hated the question “where do you see yourself in five years”. Five years ago I never would have guessed that I would be building a new career at a greenhouse, or that I would be happy in a role at an architecture firm that didn’t include leading projects. I wouldn’t have guessed that I would be spending as much time as I do cooking, that I would be taking art and enrichment classes in the middle of a weekday, or that I would enjoy long winter walks.
The day I quit my job, the person across from me said something that pushed me to leave. I was hurt, and part of me still carries that with me. But now I am grateful for it, because if it weren't for that pain, I would not be living the life that I am enjoying today.
Your fears might not be the same as mine, but if fear is holding you back from living a better life, it might be time to question those fears, and explore what would happen if you could let go of them. And if you need a little nudge, it’s okay.
Happy growing!
Sarah
Excellent post. As you found, crossing a threshold can sometimes be difficult. Determining what is holding you back, those things that prevent you from moving to the next thing is vital. Once you know those obstacles you can determine how to address them which allows you to move to the next thing.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good work and sharing your experience Sarah.