Quitting My Job Without a Plan - And Learning to Trust the Unknown

Four years ago, I quit my job.
And for a long time after that, one question made my stomach tighten:

“So… what do you do for a living?”

I didn’t know how to answer.
I didn’t have a clear title.
I didn’t have a plan.
I didn’t have my life “figured out.”

And underneath that uncertainty, there was shame.

Shame about not being able to define myself.
Shame about stepping outside the expected path.
Shame about not knowing what would come next.

But over time, something shifted.
And I began to wonder … What if this pressure to have everything figured out is an illusion?

What if not knowing is not a failure. But a strength.

The Question About Survival

When I recently shared a small reflection about this, someone asked a very real question:

“What about sustenance and survival?
And what about your mental and emotional wellbeing in that situation?”

I deeply appreciated that question.
Because it points to something important.

Choosing the unknown sounds poetic - until you’re the one sitting on the floor wondering how you’re going to pay rent.

Why I Actually Quit

The truth is, I didn’t quit out of the blue.
I quit because my nervous system couldn’t continue.

I had been stressed and anxious for nearly a decade. In 2020, my body collapsed. I tried returning to work after a year, but shortly after I found myself back in the same state.

That was my wake-up call. That was the moment where I had enough.

The only thing I knew when I quit was this:

My nervous system needed rest.

I needed to listen deeply to my body.

And my life needed to drastically change.

Not by “taking a break” to find myself back into the same rushing rhythm again.
Something needed to change for real this time.

Discovering my resources

I remember sitting on the floor in my apartment, wondering of what to do next.

And then I looked around.
And I realized that everything in that room was a resource.
It was either something I could potentially sell or turn into something I could sell.

Books. Furniture. Clothes. Equipment.

So instead of panicking, I started reducing.
Slowly…

I sold things I didn’t use.
I canceled subscriptions.
I minimized my expenses wherever I could.

Not dramatically. Not overnight.
One small thing at a time.

And even though each step felt small, together they created space.
Economically, I suddenly needed much less to survive.
And at the same time - each time I reduced down, I gained some income as well.

Strangely, it even felt like I had more money than when I was working full time.
Just because I needed less.
- like all of the extra expenses that comes from working all the time: like not having time to cook, so your are eating out every day. Or being stressed and wanting comfort by buying stuff or drinking a fancy glass of wine to fill the empty gap …

All of those expenses disappeared, as I was no longer working. But that is a whole theme by itself…

Giving Myself Time

Between my small savings and what I earned from selling my belongings, I calculated that I had roughly 5–6 months before I needed to make another decision.

So I made one clear choice:

Those six months would be devoted to my mental health.

Not building something new.
Not optimizing my future.
Not planning the next step.

Healing…

It wasn’t easy, tho. I had spent my whole life achieving, performing, surviving. Sitting still with my emotions felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

But it was necessary.

And during those months, something began to change.
For the first time in my life, I was listening to my body.
Creating from intuition instead of control.
Allowing emotions instead of bypassing them.

And slowly, slowly the six months extended.
And eventually, so did my courage.

Nepal and the Practice of Letting Go

Around a year later I had sold most of the things I owned, and my partner Mami and quit our apartment as well and traveled to Nepal.

Living there changed me in ways I could never have planned.

The families we lived with were deeply connected to the land.
They lived with the seasons.
They grew what they needed.
They relied on community.

It wasn’t romantic or easy - it was hard work.
But it was meaningful.

And it showed me something profound:

Trusting the unknown is not abstract.
In many parts of the world, it is a way of life.

Everything changes.
You adapt.
You move with it.

In the West, we are mostly taught to control outcomes at all costs.
But in Nepal, I saw another way of being.
And I realized that the gifts life gave me when I leaned into uncertainty… were things I could never have planned.

This Is Not Advice to Quit Your Job

I want to be very clear:

I am not sharing this to tell you to leave your job.
A steady income can create stability and freedom.

For me, quitting was not a bold lifestyle choice that came out of the blue.
It was a necessity, that turned into a gift.

Your path might look completely different.
It might be softer.
Slower.
More gradual.

And that is just as valid.

Three Things That Made It Sustainable

If I make this a bit more practical, these three things carried me through:

1. Reduce Before You Leap

Minimizing my expenses was foundational.

Not rushed.
Not extreme.
Just steady and intentional.
And I continue to do so as I live today.
Needing less gave me space.

2. Practice Letting Go of Control Daily

Trust emerges naturally when we stop trying to control everything and start paying attention to what’s actually here.

I had to confront perfectionism.
My need to plan everything.
My fear of uncertainty.

And I had to gently challenge those patterns in small, everyday moments.

3. Put Mental Health First

This was the real foundation.
To put my mental health before anything else.

And to this day, that remains our guiding principle for my partner and I.

If anything is at the cost of our mental health.. Then it’s not worth it.

Learning to Be Comfortable in the Unknown

Navigating life without a plan is not about irresponsibility, or doing nothing.

It is about ging where life leads you.
Flowing like water.
Taking the path of least resistance,

It’s about learning to sit with our emotions.
To be comfortable in uncertainty.
To trust that clarity can unfold over time.

Sometimes courage is simply allowing yourself to be present, even when you don’t know what comes next.
And let life unfold from there.