How to Know When it's Time to Walk Away (Even When it's Hard)

I used to think that if something didn’t work out, it meant I had failed.

If a long-term friendship ended, it was my fault.

If I lost interest in a hobby or a job, I must have done something wrong.

I carried this belief around for years. I thought I needed to try harder, hold on tighter, and never walk away.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand:

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let go.

It’s not weakness. It’s not giving up.

It’s recognising when something no longer fits, and having the courage to choose yourself anyway.

Let me give you an example.

When I was younger, I was obsessed with horse riding. I lived for it. Every weekend I’d be on my horse, and when I wasn’t riding, I was reading about horses, talking about horses, dreaming about horses.

But then I turned sixteen.

And somewhere along the way… the spark faded.

It no longer excited me the way it used to.

For years, I kept forcing myself to ride, chasing the passion I’d had since I was five. Every time I thought about stopping, guilt punched me in the chest. It felt like I was betraying myself.

But here’s what I wish I’d known back then:

It’s okay to outgrow things.

It’s okay to move on from hobbies, jobs, even people.

By holding on so tightly to something that no longer lit me up, I was missing the chance to discover something new.

I still love horses. I still love going for a ride. But if I’d taken the pressure off myself, I probably would’ve loved it more. And allowed myself the space to discover a new passion.

When passion turns into obligation, it stops being passion. It starts to become a chore.

And life is too short to spend it doing things we only half enjoy. (That’s what your day job is for, right?)

The same applies to relationships.

I used to think I needed a big, dramatic reason to leave a long-term relationship. I thought there had to be something huge and undeniable like cheating, betrayal, some explosive event, to justify walking away.

But truthfully, you don’t need any of that.

If I could sit down with my younger self over coffee, I would tell her:

Not feeling fulfilled is enough.

Wanting to spend time alone is enough.

Wanting to leave is enough.

If you’ve spent time wondering what life would feel like on the other side of your relationship, if you’ve daydreamed about being with someone who truly lights you up - chances are, you already know.

The same goes for friendships.

It’s better to have no or less friends than to surround yourself with people who make you feel small.

That might sound dramatic, but it’s true.

It doesn’t mean you’ll always be alone. It means you’re clearing space for the right people to walk in. It’s better to sit at the beach with a good book and your own company than to keep giving your energy to people who don’t see you.

Here are some signs it might be time to walk away:

• You leave feeling drained, flat, or deflated

• You don’t feel seen or appreciated

• You can’t fully be yourself around them

• You feel like you’re walking on eggshells

• You feel guilty for having needs

• You always question whether you’re too much

• You feel lonely even when you’re with them

• You’re always the one reaching out, organising, trying

• You feel stuck, heavy, or trapped when you think about staying

• You’ve started imagining your life without them - and it feels lighter

• You don’t like who you’re becoming when you’re with them

• You can’t remember the last time you felt truly excited about this thing

• You're no longer excited about the future

  
  

If you’re feeling any of these, something probably needs to change.

No one else can make that decision for you.

But I will say this: your feelings aren’t random. They are quiet nudges from the part of you that already knows what’s right. So don’t ignore them.

Choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s necessary. It's s not always easy, but I promise - it’s always worth it.

Even if your voice shakes when you do it.

Even if your heart aches when you walk away. You’re allowed to let go.

You’re allowed to choose you.

A x