There’s an old saying in sports:

 “Sometimes the game is telling you the truth—you just have to listen.”

Let me tell you, I’ve lived this. 

Many people ask me why I walked away from my career in Higher Education administration—especially when I was so close to reaching a 25-year goal.

I had the corner office.
The title.
The salary.
Headhunters were calling.

I was a young—okay, closer to middle-aged—Black man who had climbed the ladder in a field where very few people who look like me ever make it to the top. As my favourite ’70s sitcom would say, I had “moved on up to the East Side.” I had George-Jefferson’d my way into what should’ve been a good life.

Here’s the truth: something was off.
I didn’t feel it anymore.

I dreaded going to meetings where neighbours complained about stadium lights as too bright or that the national anthem playing too loud. My inner voice wanted to say, “Sir, the stadium has been here since 1958… what exactly were you expecting when you moved here?” Not to mention, there are only six home games between August and November each fall.

I was pushing against faculty.
I was forced to make budget cuts that hurt student experiences I deeply cared about.
The criticism that was presented to me from colleagues had stopped feeling like feedback on my work and started feeling personal.

I was miserable.

For nine months I thought about leaving, but I was scared. Fear had its hands around my throat. I knew I’d lost my joy and was drifting away from my North Star, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger.

Then one day, after a tough conversation with my boss, it hit me:

We weren’t aligned.

More importantly—My recent work wasn’t aligned with myself.

I am who I am:

Visionary, collaborative, fast-moving and fun-loving.

Also, yes, full of warts, wrinkles and imperfections.

Both things can be true.

Here’s another truth I don’t share often:

I had spent a career driving change, building high-performance teams, lifting organizations—and those decades of all the friction that takes had made me tired. Bone-tired.

I remember a colleague leaving her institution and saying, “I’m all out of #ucks.” At the time, I didn’t get it. Oh, did I gain that understanding.

That moment became a defining inflection point in my career.

You don’t need to be in sport to know this feeling. Whether you work in finance, healthcare, hospitality, tech, education—anywhere—there comes a time when you start quietly asking yourself:

Is it me?
Is it the job?
Is it simply time to walk away?

Let’s talk about how you know.

1. When the Gap Is About Fit, Not Effort

There’s a mountain of research on strengths-based leadership—Gallup, Clifton Strengths, and Marcus Buckingham all say the same thing:
You thrive when your job aligns with what you naturally do well.

Sometimes a job constantly demands the one thing you don’t do well—imagine being a trained goalkeeper being put in as a striker and carrying all of the pressure for not scoring.

If you’ve been willing to make whatever move you’ve made, tried coaching, feedback, training and honest effort, but nothing is going smoothly . . .
That’s not laziness or lack of commitment;
That’s misalignment.

Misalignment doesn’t improve with more hustle. It only improves with a change.

2. When You’ve Lost the Spark—and It Isn’t Coming Back

Everyone has tough weeks--even tough months.

When your energy stays low, your motivation drags, and your inner critic is louder than ever?

Pay attention.

Studies in behavioural psychology show that chronic misfit leads to burnout, disengagement and cognitive fatigue—not because you’re weak, but because your brain is operating in constant resistance.

If Sundays start to feel heavy; if you’re counting the hours to Friday by Tuesday morning; if you don’t recognize yourself anymore…something deeper is speaking.

3. When the Feedback Stops Matching the Effort

You know you’re in trouble when:

• You prepare like crazy but still get the same critique.
• You make progress, but the goalposts keep moving.
• You’re not trusted with opportunities that help you grow.
• You’ve become ‘the project,’ not the contributor.

Let’s be clear:

Feedback is a gift.
Micromanagement is not.

A job that constantly reminds you of your failures—with no real path to success—is slowly eroding your confidence.

Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is say: “This is no longer the right place for me to shine.”

4. When Your Values Don’t Match the Organization’s Direction

Here’s one of the biggest red flags, and one we often avoid, because it’s uncomfortable.

If the culture, expectations, pace or leadership philosophy of the organization constantly clashes with your values, you will never feel like you’re winning.

You’ll feel like you’re acting—pretending, and performance always suffers in an environment where you can’t be yourself.

5. When Staying Costs More Than Leaving

Your peace.
Your confidence.
Your professional reputation.
Your health.
Your relationships.
Your joy.

These are not small things. They are everything.

Sometimes we stay because of loyalty, fear or hope that tomorrow will magically improve. Here’s the truth I’ve learned, painfully, at times:

A job can be a chapter of your story, not the whole book.

Closing a chapter isn’t failure.
It’s maturity.
It’s wisdom.

A Quick Gut Check: Ask Yourself These Three Questions

1. Am I growing or shrinking in this role?

2. Does this environment bring out my strengths or expose my insecurities?

3. If someone I care about were in my situation, what advice would I give them?

We give better advice to our friends than to ourselves.
Listen to your own wisdom.

You Don’t Need Permission to Choose Yourself

Let me be blunt:
Staying in the wrong job is like staying in a relationship where both sides are quietly suffering.
Nobody wins.

Walking away isn’t quitting.
It’s strategic.
It’s healthy.
It’s the leadership move.

Sometimes, stepping out of the wrong role is what finally opens the door to the right one.

I didn’t know it back then—but leaving the job I was languishing in became the turning point that set me on the path to becoming a coach, a dean, a speaker and a leader.

Your next chapter might be waiting on the other side of your courage.

Let me tell you, the only regret I have about leaving is that I didn’t do it sooner.

Choose the path that brings you back to your best self. That’s where your greatness lives.