How to leave your job in the most compassionate way possible
This is my 200th blog post (wow!).
Today’s post is a full-circle moment. The first one I ever published was about the day Maria, a member of our leadership team, left our company.
Maria left us in 2018, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. As sad as it was to lose her, I know that it was the best-case scenario for me, for our company, and most importantly, for Maria—and that’s thanks to the compassionate way Maria handled her decision to leave.
Someone asked me recently about how to leave a job you once loved with compassion, right up until your last day. I want to revisit Maria’s story to show an example of what that can look like, and I also want to talk about why I think it’s important to give your employer the opportunity to support you from the moment you start to think about leaving.
Maria started working with us in 2013. At that time, she was cleaning houses at Student Maid while she was in school. Her kindness and compassion for others was evident from day one, and that eventually earned her a spot on our leadership team. Her responsibilities included interviewing, hiring, and training new members of the team. She was actually the first person aside from me to lead our team members through leadership development workshops. In short: Maria was an amazing addition to our team.
After a few years, things had started to change for Maria. She’d met the person she would eventually marry, and he lived in a different city about an hour away. And while Maria loved parts of her job at Student Maid—mostly the leadership development workshops—she no longer enjoyed many of the other parts. But even more than that, she was ready to explore new opportunities in a new city. Student Maid was the only place she had ever worked, and she was ready for her next chapter.
When Maria told me about her decision to move on from the company, it wasn’t a surprise. She had always been so open with me and had come to me several times to talk about changes we could make to shift her role so that it aligned better with her sweet spot (the place where her talents and motivation meet). We experimented with different roles, and it soon became clear that we didn’t have a role that would keep her in her sweet spot full-time. I was so sad to lose her, but I knew that her decision to leave wasn’t about me and what I had or hadn’t been able to do for her; it was about her and her desire to grow. She deserved to have new experiences and learn new things in new places, and I wanted her to remember me as someone who helped her on that journey, not someone who hindered it.
One of the things I remember most about the day Maria told me she planned to leave was that she gave me 365 days’ notice.
365 days!
At the time, I was lucky if I got two weeks’ notice. Sometimes, people just wouldn’t show up to work, and I’d find out later they’d gotten another job. It always left me feeling so stressed and defeated as a leader. Often, I didn’t even know these people were unhappy with their jobs. There were certainly things I could have done better as a leader back then, and this was fairly early into my journey with building a culture of open feedback, so not everyone would have felt comfortable telling me how they really felt. But it still hurt. I wished they’d given me the chance to make some adjustments instead of leaving abruptly. At the very least, I would have loved to help them with their next step.
So for me, a whole year’s notice was unheard of.
I remember Maria telling me that a year would help both of us. It would allow her to take her time finding her next job and not feel rushed. Now that her decision was out in the open, she would have the freedom to take interviews as needed instead of hiding that from me or anyone on the team. We could all support her and help her in the process. And the team and I would have a whole year to plan for Maria’s departure and find someone to fill her role. We didn’t need to frantically hire someone; instead, we could be more intentional with Maria’s replacement.
What happened after that was beautiful: Maria moved on a year later, after she’d found a wonderful new role. We found a way to fill her role by elevating others on the team. And throughout the whole process, it felt like we were on the same team.
So what’s the lesson in this?
There are all kinds of reasons someone might want to leave a job. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity could pop up, for example, or life could shift in an instant, and it might require a swift career change. These are special circumstances, and you gotta do what you gotta do. But other times, you might just be ready for a change and a new chapter. Like I’ve advocated for compassion when organizations have to let people go, I think it’s important for individuals to show compassion to their employers when they’re ready to move on.
I often meet people who are planning to leave their jobs. Instead of speaking up, they start planning their exit in secret, and the first time their employer hears about their decision to leave is when they give their notice. If we’re talking about a toxic workplace, I totally understand why someone might want to handle their exit that way. Toxic leaders and toxic environments are a whole different story. When we’re talking about a supportive workplace and an understanding leader, I think it’s important to consider that holding back on giving feedback or having a conversation that could inspire change is a disservice to both sides. It’s 100% okay if you decide that leaving a company is the best choice for you. And, if I’m putting on my company-owner and leader-of-a-team hat, it makes it a better experience for all when that decision comes along with transparency, openness, and proactiveness.
Maria is a wonderful example of someone who exited with compassion. She gave me several opportunities to make changes before she decided to leave, and she gave me the gift of time. I know that 365 days’ notice isn’t the norm, and I’m certainly not advocating that it should be. I just think it goes a long way to choose a date that allows for the best transition on both sides. I really appreciated the care Maria put into her decision.
It’s easier said than done, I know. Even when the relationship is good, someone might be afraid to speak up and tell their leader that they want to move on because they fear retaliation or that the response will be negative. I think sometimes we make assumptions about how someone will respond without giving the person a chance. Not to mention that it can feel so heavy and lonely to keep something like this to ourselves. But what if by being transparent with your leader it helps build more trust between you? What if it allows you to openly look for a new position instead of having to hide it? What if it allows your leader to transition your role in a way that isn’t stressful for either of you? Instead of thinking of all the things that could go wrong by being transparent, what could the best case look like? If your leader has shown they care about you and are invested in your growth, why would they react with anything other than support?
And that leads me to . . . if you are the leader of a team, I think it’s equally (if not more) important to respond with compassion when someone shares their desire to leave. Remember that this person has courageously decided to be vulnerable with you and put themselves out there. They deserve to feel safe. They deserve a leader who won’t take their decision personally. They deserve a leader who wants to support them on their journey instead of retaliating or hindering their success. They deserve the best transition possible.
I believe we all have a responsibility to each other to be compassionate, no matter our role or position. Any time you have a chance to bring compassion to the workplace, take it and be the example for those around you. That’s how we create change—together.
Big hugs,
