Most of my writing talks about persistence.
Keep going. Be patient. Don’t give up.
And I stand by that. Building anything meaningful requires endurance. But there’s a flip side that I haven’t talked about as much: knowing when to quit.
I’ve quit jobs, careers, relationships, business strategies, and cities. There were also many moments in the early days of Mixed when I wanted to quit—but didn’t.
Over time, I’ve started to notice the difference between the moments when quitting was the right choice and the moments when staying was.
The times I’ve successfully quit something tend to have a few things in common:
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They feel safe enough to entice me to stay
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They’re good, but not great
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I’d fantasize a different life/future
I remember pacing my bedroom right before sending the email to my boss telling her that the 2019 school year would be my last. I was planning to move to Japan for a few months, work on a book, and learn graphic design. But I was so worried that I wouldn’t find a better job or figure out how to switch career paths.
My life was comfortable, stable, and looked successful from the outside.
And yet something inside me knew it wasn't quite right.
Those moments were usually followed by a series of questions:
What if the next thing isn’t as good?
What if I’m making a mistake?
What will everyone else think?
Whenever I’ve asked myself those questions, I’ve eventually realized that I was staying out of fear, not conviction.
The moments I considered quitting Mixed felt completely different.
They were moments when things felt almost unbearably uncertain. Building in the dark. Living month to month. Working hard without knowing whether it would ever become something sustainable. It was hard in a way that felt destabilizing. I couldn’t tell if I was making enough progress and I couldn’t see a clear outcome.
But there was one thing that always stopped me: there was nothing else I wanted to do instead.
Quitting Mixed never felt like stepping toward something better. It only felt like stepping away from something that still mattered deeply to me.
The difficult part is learning the difference between something that is comfortable but quietly wrong and something that is uncertain and possibly right.
Many worthwhile pursuits are difficult, but difficulty alone isn’t a signal to quit.
There’s a different feeling that emerges when something is fundamentally misaligned. Over time, I’ve learned to pay attention to that signal.
Persistence matters. But discernment matters just as much.
The goal isn’t to never quit.
The goal is to learn when to quit.
Happy Sunday,
Nasrin