I handed in my resignation at my Director job around five months ago and officially left in mid-August. It wasn’t my first time quitting my corporate job without another full-time offer lined up.
Back in 2021, right after I got my permanent residency in the UK, I left Lloyds Banking Group, my skilled worker visa sponsor, with the plan to work for myself. Three months later, as anxiety hit, I was applying for jobs again. By month five, my corporate career continued upward: I landed at J.P. Morgan and got promoted within eight months.
In 2023, I quit again, though this time I switched from working full-time to contracting for another team at J.P. Morgan and other big corporations like Google. After a year, I got the offer to join Mastercard as a Director, hiring and building out a team.
Many people are worried about not having long enough tenure on their CVs. For me and my line of work, I’ve always been rewarded for knowing when to make the jump and diversifying my skills and experiences. With each move, I’ve made more money and grown both personally and professionally.
I wasn’t afraid to let go of things that no longer served me, even things that were good when I knew something else could suit me better. I’ve become increasingly more ruthless with how I spend my time and make decisions to serve me.
Having myself as the default
I published a video last week on why smart,capable women might stay stuck in confusing relationships. One of the points I made was about being conditioned to shrink yourself.
I wanted to add that this can be worse for immigrant women, or anyone from a marginalised group. It gets wired structurally into your daily life with visible costs. For example, you have to apply and pay for endless visas. You have to speak a completely different language. You have to follow other people’s customs. You consume media where you rarely see anyone who looks or lives like you. When you do, they’re often portrayed as a stereotypical outsider, or their story is treated as niche. You’re never the default in your daily experience.
It becomes a reflex to bend yourself because you’re literally legally required to. When something goes wrong, you don’t even know if it’s actually wrong, or if you just need to bend yourself a little harder, or whether you’re allowed to question it.
Don’t get me wrong: I understand the world is full of different people, and these systems, no matter how well they are designed, cannot meet the needs of everyone. I’m indeed a minority here, and it doesn’t make sense for everything to be catered to me specifically. I’m grateful for the social mobility that comes with moving abroad, and it’s a conscious choice, and I accept the reality of it. But I have to acknowledge the immense psychological impact of spending over a decade on visas, squeezing into places that were not designed for me, then the slow, uncomfortable work of undoing it.
Now years after having my British citizenship, building so much more security and support for myself, it still feels like a surprise gift every day to be able to deconstruct my life and organise my external world around my needs and identity, to have options, to choose things that work for me and walk away from things that don’t, when I want it.
This shift in mindset, having me as the default, changed my life many years ago, first in my relationship.
It means starting with who I am and what I need, then looking at what choices I have within my circumstances, where I can play to my strengths, and what I can use as leverage to get the best I can. There have always been constraints, but wherever I had room to choose, I would choose with myself, right where I am, in mind, in support of where I want to get to. Over time, I’ve managed to remove more constraints and build more resources, giving me more freedom to put that into practice.
What that looks like in my work
Quitting my corporate job was how I removed such constraints in my work. My last job did give me many benefits and more room to be myself than others, but ultimately, it was still not enough, and it was increasingly costly as I became more conscious of the trade-off. The cost-and-benefit analysis no longer made sense.
That said, the switch wasn’t simple. The structure, social stimulation, and sources of security that came with a corporate job mattered to me. In my previous attempts to work for myself, I hadn’t found ways to meet those needs. This time, with more self-knowledge and more resources to draw on, I’ve been able to manage them much better, and I feel ready to ride out this new era of my life.
1. Money, security, and the need to feel productive
Before: I was anxious about not having a monthly income and not being productive or needed.
I tied my self-worth to having a regular paycheck. The constant pings and requests in the office became a source of validation and distraction. Without them, I felt lost and questioned my value. So I started applying for jobs again, primarily to ease my anxiety rather than as an intentional step to grow my career. It led to choices that took me further away from my true calling.
What I’ve worked on: Recognising how much of my thinking came from being a salaried employee, and questioning whether it served me as a business owner.
Being needed isn’t the same as being valued. People constantly asking for my input made me feel important. But being busy answering requests didn’t necessarily mean I was doing valuable work. I’ve had to stop using how much other people need me as a measure of my worth or contribution.
Thinking like an owner changes what progress looks like. As an employee, I was used to doing work and receiving a salary every month. Building a business means putting time into things that might take longer to pay off. I’ve become more comfortable with that gap, assessing what I’m building rather than needing an immediate return to feel productive.
My work doesn’t have to depend on me being constantly involved. In some businesses, the goal is to build a company that can operate without the owner, or eventually be sold. That isn’t exactly how I see my business, but understanding it challenged my assumption that I should always be busy and indispensable. I can build things that continue to provide value without requiring my attention every time.
Security can come from having options. A regular paycheck was my main reference point for feeling secure. Now I also recognise the security in my skills, career options, and different ways to earn. Having those reduces the risk and anxiety of relying on one path.
I also prepared differently this time. Previously, I quit without a plan or much in place. This time, I left with a plan and things already in motion, with my own runway and support from my husband. I’d been building my community, coaching and mentoring, running events, and publishing books and guides. I had a clearer idea of what I was building and what to do next.
2. Isolation and a lack of structure
Before: I didn’t have much supporting me outside work.
I didn’t go to the gym. I often worked in bed in the dark. I was at home, talking to no one during the day. Without the office, I lost the structure around my work and my lifestyle.
What I’ve worked on: Understanding what helps me feel good and building those things into my days.
Looking after myself physically. I work out regularly a few times a week, incorporate treadmill walks into my routine, and cook for myself. I’ve recently improved my sleep too, which has made a huge difference.
Getting out of the house. I schedule days out so I’m not spending all my time at home working.
Creating structure and boundaries. I organise my calendar in advance and have a hard stop when my husband comes home.
I have more freedom over my days, and I know more about what I need to feel good in them. I’m building around that instead of expecting myself to thrive with no support or structure.
3. Feeling like I hadn’t proved myself
Before: When I first quit, I was an assistant manager. I felt I should have been more senior and had a chip on my shoulder. I’d only worked at one company, which I didn’t like.
Part of me still wanted to know how far I could go in a corporate career.
What I’ve worked on: Understanding what I wanted from career progression and recognising when I’d got what I needed.
Gaining the sense of eligibility I wanted, then letting it go. Although anxiety initially drove me to apply for jobs again, the experiences that followed helped me prove I could succeed at that level as an immigrant. Having reached it, I no longer felt the need to keep proving myself through my corporate career.
Letting my goals change. Becoming a Director was a milestone for me. I’ve progressed in my career, led a team, mentored and coached many people, and made money independently from different skills. Now I don’t feel the same need to pursue another corporate title, and I can give my attention to other things.
I can recognise that some choices were driven by anxiety and still appreciate what I gained from them. I gave myself the permission to evolve and go after what I wanted.
4. Skills and stamina
Before: My focus had always been on content, coaching, delivery, and marketing. I lacked the commercial understanding and the scaffolding around that work to make it sustainable.
What I’ve worked on: Filling those gaps through experience.
Understanding the commercial side. My last Director role was commercially focused. It helped me understand what makes work financially sustainable, beyond delivering it well.
Running my own limited company. Contracting through my own limited company gave me experience working with big corporate clients and running a business. It was a different model, but a significant first step towards what I’m building now.
I’m still learning, but I feel a lot better equipped to build something sustainable and keep going in the long term. I’m committed.
How to apply this in your own life
Looking back, each decision has added something to me. You don’t need every decision to be the final answer. You need to keep learning about yourself and build the self-trust to make choices that support you.
Here’s an outline of what to do:
1. Get to know yourself
Having yourself as the default starts with understanding YOU. This is your life, your reality. You have the agency and responsibility to build it for you.
My mantra: Never rely on anyone to do the right things for you; you know you best.
What matters to you?
What do you need to feel secure and supported?
What kind of work and daily life suit you?
Which expectations have you accepted without questioning them?
What do you want at this stage of your life?
Your answers can also change over time.
Mine have. For example, when I first tried working for myself, I needed more security, structure, and confidence in my skills. Going back into employment helped me build those things. Now I have different needs and more resources. I can make a different decision.
2. Build the self-trust to act on what you know
When you trust yourself, you can try something without needing a guarantee that it will work. You know you’ll have your own back if it doesn’t.
That helps you:
Try and fail without turning the outcome into a judgment about your worth.
Keep working towards goals through uncertainty and slow progress.
Answer your inner critic voices with a different voice, so you can understand what happened and decide what to do next.
Take action before you have every answer.
Question things around you, including systems and expectations you’ve been following automatically.
Make decisions for yourself, based on what’s important to you, even when someone else would choose differently.
You also learn more about yourself by doing these things. You make a decision, see what happens, and use what you learn to make the next one.
3. Choose what adds to you
One question I keep coming back to is: Does this add to me?
That applies to the work I move towards, the relationships I keep close, and the goals I spend my energy on.
Something can be difficult and still add to me. A demanding role might build skills I want. A hard conversation might improve a relationship. Building a business involves uncertainty while giving me opportunities I value.
I’m looking at what the effort builds over time. Am I becoming more capable? Do I have more choices? Does this support the kind of life I want?
Something being impressive or familiar doesn’t automatically mean I need to keep it.
4. Keep at the right things and quit the wrong things
I choose my battles. I’m willing to work hard for things that matter to me, and I’m not afraid to quit things that no longer fit.
The judgment I’ve been developing is knowing the difference.
When something feels hard, I ask:
Is this discomfort part of learning, or is something fundamentally wrong?
Do I still want the outcome I’m working towards?
Could I change how I’m approaching it?
Am I staying because this matters to me, or because I feel I have to prove something?
Knowing myself helps me answer those questions. Self-trust helps me follow through on the answers.
Sometimes that means staying with something through a difficult period. Sometimes it means leaving. Sometimes it means trying again later, with more resources and a better understanding of what I need.
I’m ruthless when cutting my losses. I do it quickly, and I don’t look back. Since I’ve built a solid relationship with myself, I can support myself through any hard decision. My internal voice backs me.
Build for where you are now
Getting to this stage has involved years of understanding and accepting myself right where I am, changing my mindset, trying things, failing things, getting hurt, learning to do better for myself, and building internal and external resources to support me every step of the way.
All those things shape what’s possible for me now. Your circumstances will shape what’s possible for you.
Look at what you already have, what you need to build, and what decision you can make next. It might be a big change. It might be a smaller step that puts you in a stronger position later.
This is the work at the heart of my coaching programme: getting to know yourself, building self-trust, and learning to make choices with yourself as the default.
If you recognise yourself in the habit of bending a little harder, questioning whether you’re allowed to want something different, or struggling to act on what you already know, this is what we work on together.
My next cohort will open in early January.
