Can I Quit?
We celebrate beginnings, new jobs, new habits, new passions. But we rarely talk about the wisdom in quitting. Not out of failure, but from clarity. Sometimes continuing feels heavier than letting go. That’s not giving up, it’s growing beyond what no longer fits.
“If there is a secret to life, I think it might be to keep quitting things until you find something you can’t quit.” – Jason McBride
At some point, whether you’re 35 or 65, you stop asking what you should be doing and start asking what you actually want. You start trying new things. And just as importantly, you start quitting the ones that no longer fit.
We don’t talk enough about quitting as wisdom. About how clarity often comes from letting go, not holding on. Sometimes, you have to try ten things and quit nine before you find the one that won’t let you go.
Quitting What No Longer Serves
I’ve quit trying to fix people. Quit trying to manage conversations that go nowhere. Quit chasing art forms that no longer bring joy.
My sunroom was overflowing with supplies, encaustic, oils, tools I once loved but now just made me feel behind. I didn’t toss them. I packed them away. I made space. For acrylics. For watercolor. For breathing room.
I’ve stepped back from negative people who do nothing but complain. Not because I don’t care, but because I care too much for myself to waste energy on conversations that drain me. My peace matters more.
From Let Them to Let Me
As I’ve mentioned before, Mel Robbins’ Let Them message hit hard. But in her recent bestselling book her follow-up was even more powerful: Let me. Let me build the life I want. Let me quit what no longer fits. Let me choose what matters to me, not what’s expected.
Let me grow herbs that might actually survive.
Let me try recipes that could fail.
Let me write stories that feel true.
Let me take photos that make me smile.
Let me travel to places that call to me.
Let me paint, not for perfection, but for the joy of creation.
Let me cook to honor blessing we’ve been given and make the meal memorable.
I’ve nailed the “let them” part. Now I’m working on the “let me.”
What Are You Curating?
This isn’t about reinvention. It’s about curation.
Think of your life as a personal museum, each habit, relationship, or role like a piece of art. Museums don’t keep everything. They rotate. They release. They make space.
You’re the curator of your own life.
It’s your job to notice what still speaks to you, and what no longer belongs. To make room for the pieces that reflect who you are now.
Try things. Quit things. Don’t apologize. The process, and the learning, are the point.
Ask yourself:
- What am I done pretending to enjoy?
- What drains me more than it fills me?
- What do I find myself coming back to, no matter what?
You don’t have to burn it all down.
Just… step back.
Pack it up.
Say, “Not now.”
Then name the things you’re ready to quit.
And the things you want more of in this season of your life.
Because the goal isn’t to do everything.
It’s to find the thing you can’t quit.
As for me? I’m still writing. Still growing herbs. Still playing Mahjong on Thursdays. Those are my can’t-quits.
What are yours?
Let them do what they do.
Let you do what you need.
And keep going until you find what sticks.
Your Turn. Let me hear your thoughts on how you want to curate your life.
Take a moment, grab a piece of paper and ask yourself these questions. No pressure. No perfection. Just a quiet check-in with yourself.
What are the things I want to quit?
What are the things I want more of?
Let me hear your thoughts. Remember, you are the curator of your own life collections.