It's a quiet Thursday afternoon - nothing out of the ordinary. I spend the evening scrolling through social media; TikTok a kaleidoscopic collection of 20-somethings off traveling; Instagram a highlight reel of holidays; a girl I met maybe three times at university posting pictures from yet another country as she makes her mark on the world; three of my closest friends: two backpacking in Australia, one in Cyprus where she has moved to. People, some whose lives have barely touched mine, others who mean everything to me, out there doing exactly what I want to be doing. Except they're doing it and I'm the green eyed monster stalking their social media. 

Australia, 2017

Then the message comes - another close friend: How much did you spend backpacking in your gap year? What should I do in Australia? I'm quitting my job to travel! 

And the seed is planted, fed initially by joy for my friend who is quitting a job she loathes for herself. I wonder to myself, can I do the same? Except I love my job, I have a year to finish the final year of my ECT and I have a life here, even if I hate the city I live in. I try to bury the seed far down, to take away its water. I think I succeed, until it happens again. 

Reuninited with another friend, I ask them 'how is work?'

'I'm quitting to travel, Australia!' 

Suddenly, the seed has roots - it is not just revived but thriving. I feed it now: TikToks of Au Pairs in Italy, English teachers in Thailand, digital nomads freely travelling the world. I can't destroy it this time. I'm restless, stressed, and frustrated. I've created a life where I am; I have ties; I have a supportive work environment with genuine friends I don't want to leave; I'm attached to the students I teach: the Year 10s I want to see through to their GCSE exams, Year 9s I want to see thrive when they start their GCSEs, a tutor group I know have so much more potential that I have yet to see. 

As it turns out, these ties were the exact reason I knew I had to leave now. Those ties to my life are only going to get stronger. The friendships I've made here will only grow stronger. There will always be classes I want to see through to Year 11. A worry that keeps me awake at night sparks: if I don't leave now, will I ever?

So, I did it. After much, much, much research into what I would do to make money without a job (and basically no savings) and many, many conversations with my parents fielding their concerns, I told my Head of Department, my mentor, my tutor, my close friends, and then I took the leap and formally resigned.

Initially, I felt like a weight had been lifted, that the seed was starting to blossom; liberty. Until the panic hit - all-consuming, the seed out of control; wild. How will I earn money? How could I give up a job I love so much? And in a post-pandemic job market. Was I about to cost myself everything I'd spent the last two years building to?

Liberty or loss.

Pros and cons.

It's something we've all considered for many a decision in our lives. Which will outweigh the other? Is the risk worth leaving our safety nets?

No decision we make will ever be that straightforward, especially when it comes to quitting your job to travel. Society tells us when we're in our 20s we should be searching for security, for the job, the house, the partner. That's what I intially felt like I was losing, I just had to remind myself that society has told me that's what I'll lose. In reality, I don't have a house, not even close, and I don't have a partner, not even close. So I sacrifice one loss, my job, for myself. To do what I've wanted to do for as long as I can remember.

I feel free. One door closed but hundreds more opened. That one wild seed has blossomed into a field in front of me. 

Australia, 2017

My whole future spread wide before me ready for me to travel. Liberty.

Only you can decide what is the right choice for you, but don't let the fear of crashing and burning force you to kill the seed of following your dreams.

Meg