The Goal is Not to Bounce Back, It is to Evolve

About three months after I left my job, I met up with a former colleague. It felt like a normal catch-up over coffee—until they asked me a question that stopped me mid-sip:

“How long did it take you to bounce back?”

I froze.

The question hit me like a punch to the gut—not because it was offensive, but because it was so familiar.

I knew that question. I’d asked it before.

I’d asked that question every time I made a big move—when I dared to leave a job, pivot my career, or break away from something that wasn’t working.

I wanted to know:

• How long would it take to feel okay again?

• How long until I could prove—to myself and everyone watching—that I hadn’t made a mistake?

At the time, I thought I was looking for a playbook, a step-by-step guide to “bouncing back.”

But looking back, I realize I wasn’t looking for answers. I was looking for something safe.

I was looking for a guarantee.

• A guarantee that I wouldn’t fail.

• A guarantee that people wouldn’t judge me.

• A guarantee that I wouldn’t regret the leap I had taken.

Because taking a risk—whether it’s leaving a job, starting something new, or breaking away from what’s familiar—is terrifying.

It stirs up every voice in your head:

• “What if this doesn’t work?”

• “What if people think I’m foolish?”

• “What if I’m the outcast who dared to try and failed?”

We look for stories of people who’ve “bounced back” because we’re trying to soothe our fear.

We’re not looking for a map. We’re looking for safety.

I blinked at my colleague and gave them the cleanest answer I could think of:

“I planned to take a month off. But it took me six weeks before I could do anything again.”

It was true. For six weeks, I didn’t do anything that looked productive. I didn’t make a plan. I didn’t set goals. I didn’t even open my computer.

But I wasn’t doing nothing.

I was doing something I hadn’t let myself do in years: I was living.

I spent that time with my kids.

And not just “spending time” the way we do when our minds are still busy with to-do lists or distractions. I mean really being there.

• I watched them play, their little imaginations turning empty boxes into castles.

• I watched them eat, their tiny hands chasing rogue pieces of pasta around their plates.

• I watched them fight—dramatic, explosive fights that ended as quickly as they started.

• I watched them try to argue with me and their dad, coming up with “logic” only a 4- and 6-year-old could dream up.

I didn’t rush those moments.

I didn’t check my phone or worry about my next step.

I just let myself be.

And in that stillness, something unexpected happened:

I became more patient.

• More patient with my kids.

• More patient with myself.

• More patient with life.

It was like I’d finally let go of the need to rush and prove and “fill the silence” with something productive.

When my colleague asked me how long it took to bounce back, I gave them an answer.

But the real truth?

I never bounced back.

And I don’t want to.

When we talk about “bouncing back,” what we’re really saying is:

“How long until you go back to the person you were before?”

But why would I want to go back?

The version of me before I quit my job? She was overwhelmed. She was shrinking. She was playing by someone else’s rules and ignoring her own voice.

I didn’t quit because I wanted to return to anything.

I quit because I wanted something different.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

The goal isn’t to bounce back.

The goal is to move forward.

To take everything you’ve felt, everything you’ve learned, and let it shape you into someone stronger, clearer, and closer to who you’re meant to be.

After those six weeks, I didn’t return to “normal.” I didn’t go back to being the version of me before I quit.

I came out as someone new:

• Someone who trusted herself to make hard choices.

• Someone who knew when to slow down and be present.

• Someone who believed she didn’t need to fill every moment to feel worthy.

I started evolving into a version of me who felt more authentic. More of me!

If you’re standing at the edge of change—if you’re deep in the messy middle, searching for answers—here’s what I want you to know:

Stop looking for the “bounce back.”

Stop searching for guarantees.

You don’t need to go back to who you were. That version of you got you here, but it doesn’t need to take you forward.

The goal isn’t to return.

The goal is to evolve.

And you don’t need a playbook for that.

You just need to take the next step forward.

When I left my job, I wasn’t trying to bounce back.

I was trying to create space to become someone new—someone who could be present, patient, and bold enough to trust herself again.

If you’re feeling stuck right now, take a deep breath.

You don’t need to bounce back.

You just need to keep moving forward.

Because the version of you waiting on the other side?

She’s worth it.