I wish I was a quitter

As a senior preparing to graduate from Asbury and step into the next phase of my life, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on my education. And after all that reflection, I’ve come to a surprising conclusion:

I wish I had quit more.

Growing up, the importance of finishing what you start was deeply ingrained in me. Somewhere along the way, I adopted it as a core part of who I am. I wanted to be dependable: the kind of person people could count on in every area of life.

And I was.

But I was also exhausted.

By the time I was filling out college applications, I realized I had been involved in more than 12 extracurricular activities while also working a part-time job, many of them happening simultaneously. That felt like something to be proud of. Looking back, I’m not so sure.

Because now, with a little distance, I can admit something I wouldn’t have said then: I didn’t actually enjoy all of it.

I enjoyed some things, of course. But as my interests shifted and my priorities changed, my schedule didn’t. I never gave myself permission to adjust. In my mind, “finish what you start” meant that quitting a club or stepping away from a commitment was the same thing as failure.

So I stayed. Long after I should have left.

And that wasn’t the only standard I was trying to live up to.

Alongside “finish what you start,” I carried another expectation just as strongly: “do everything to the best of your ability.” Or, more honestly, don’t just do things, excel at them. Excel at everything. 

We are all human, which means that we each have limited capacities. The truth is that at some point, continuing to do things that you said ‘yes’ to years ago ignores the reality that people grow and priorities change. At the same time, trying to excel at everything you do creates an expectation that you will never be able to live up to, especially if you have a wide variety of commitments you are trying to juggle. 

That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t keep up your commitments. Of course, you should show up when you say you will and do what you say you will. But that doesn’t mean you should pour all of yourself into every project. 

I currently serve as a member of Asbury’s Executive Cabinet, am the News Editor of the Collegian and work a part-time job. On top of that, I have a deep love of music, creative writing, literature and spending quality time with the people around me. I recognize that I cannot be stellar at all of these things at once. So each week, I decide which of those things I am going to go above and beyond at and which of those things I am simply going to show up for and do what I can handle. 

And sometimes, that also means recognizing when something no longer fits at all.

Quitting is not the same as giving up. It is not a lack of discipline or a failure to follow through. Instead, it can be a recognition that your time, energy and attention are limited and that where you place them matters. Quitting the right way means being honest with yourself and with others. It means communicating clearly, stepping away responsibly and allowing someone else the opportunity to step in and thrive.

It also means acknowledging something we often resist: you are allowed to change.

The person you were when you first said ‘yes’ to something is not the same person you are now. Your interests evolve. Your priorities shift. And you know what? That’s okay! In fact, it is the very thing that makes you human. Sometimes, the most responsible decision you can make is to let go of something that no longer aligns with who you are becoming.

At the same time, not everything in your life needs to be something you excel at. There is value in doing things simply because they bring you joy. Not every commitment needs to turn into an achievement. Not everything needs to be optimized. Some things can just be fun, restful or meaningful in quieter ways. I have seen this very clearly in my own life. When I was in high school, I had a deep love of performing, and I spent hours pouring into rehearsals, voice and dance lessons and performances. I no longer have the time that it takes to be a performer in a competitive environment like I used to. So instead, I continue to enjoy music in the quiet of a practice room in McCreless or around a campfire with friends. And maybe one day I will set something else aside so that I can enjoy a passion project at a local community theatre. Because without that shift, even the things we love can start to feel like obligations. Although I may not “excel” at music, I do love it, and for me, that is enough. 

Learning how to persevere is important. But learning when to step away is important too. Because the goal was never to do everything. The goal was to do the right things well and to leave room to actually enjoy them.

And sometimes, the only way to do that is to quit.

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