Sometimes significant decisions in our lives end up being much more simple than we would ever imagine. I was dialed in and committed to the people I could see were doing their best to navigate the difficult push and pull of uncertainties. The goals, the output mattered, but it was people and their input who drove the processes that led to results. Passion and cohesive teamwork creates momentum that makes uphill climb challenges almost fun together and downhill coasts feel refreshing. Fractured connections and detached leadership made the uphill climbs arduous and overwhelming on individuals and relationships and the downhill coasts feel out of control and frightening—like a vehicle straight out of The Flintstones. We kept our hands on it because we didn’t want to let each other down. We somehow had enough energy and perspective to understand and suggest what solutions would help, but that would upset the equilibrium. 

Some people get comfortable with the inequity, the unnecessary chaos, the inconsistent standards, the delayed or withheld communication, the empowerment of foolish people. In their small world, keeping decisions to a limited perspective are rationalized and even seem wise. But if they only looked at those who have fallen before them, they would see the similarities…

I’m not the only one to experience this dynamic. And mine is not the only situation. Look around. It’s pervasive. Sadly. And I’m not pointing fingers, because we can all learn from it. We all have tendencies to beat our heads against the wall instead of listening to and incorporating wise input, learning from others. But I find those who often think they are best at self-reflecting and listening are often not. Maybe they—and we—are too overwhelmed at times. We can’t see the horizon as clearly as we think because of what’s around us.

I knew I’d leave at some point, but I didn’t feel as if I was at a crossroads yet. Here is what I knew about where I was. (1) A place with history. While I wasn’t there from the beginning, the story mattered. The founders mattered. Their care for the community mattered. I was honored to be a small part of the story. (2) A place in which I had invested. I had grown with the company through several significant, and not easy, transitions. I was given opportunities that stretched and grew me. Unfortunately, sometimes growth brings degeneration. I tried to navigate opportunities along the way as best as I could under the circumstances. (3) A place where I valued friendships and professional relationships. Some friendships formed because we were in the trenches together through the tough days, some because we collaborated and succeeded together, and some because we found things in common and will continue to keep in touch beyond our work environment. Some encouraged me on tough days, and I’ll continue to reach out to some for their expert advice on a variety of topics. Leaving was the most difficult because of the relationships. (4) A place that was growing in toxicity. Leaving was the easiest because of this. The strongest confirmation of it was leadership’s consistent denial of any existence of issue with culture, especially since revealing many examples of it earlier in the year. It is amazing how perspectives change when someone wants to make specific points. 

Back to those crossroads I didn’t feel I had reached—it was as if I reached the top of the hill, and I could see the crossroads I didn’t know were there. There was a mention, a text, a conversation, an offer, and a resignation. It was simple. It was right. It was comfortable. To me. It didn’t feel the same to everyone. People who were in the trenches with me understood even if they were sad to see me go. The people who were shocked were the people who hadn’t been listening. The people who were glad or didn’t care didn’t like the standards I held and probably thought they’d be able to go back to get their own way again. Perhaps they’re right. It was never about them versus me. It was about me handling my role responsibly. 

I left the way I worked every day, doing my best to communicate as clearly as I could while also knowing I couldn’t do it all. I hope I left people better. I know I left better. I left wiser. I was bruised but tougher. I had been frustrated but was at peace with the effort I’d given. I was concerned about the future for those remaining but was hopeful they would continue some difficult conversations. 

Looking back, not everyone was on the same road. There were groups of people who liked their own types of roads, modes of travel, companions, and preferred speeds. And no one was trying to find a route and mode of transportation to pull us all together. No one was using a consistent method of communication. How can there be shared ownership and direction under those circumstances, when the crossroads, side roads, off ramps, convenience stops, and so on, don’t align? Of course, there is going to be room for flexibility and individuality, but there doesn’t have to be confusion and detachment with it. 

In my case, the decision was simple because I removed myself from the confusion.