I Left a Six-Figure Tech Job to Work at a Thrift Store—And I’ve Never Been Happier

When I told my coworkers I was leaving my job at a billion-dollar startup to work at a local thrift store, they laughed.

Not out of malice. Out of confusion.

"Are you serious?"

Yes, I was.

I had everything I thought I wanted: a sleek apartment in San Francisco, an income that looked impressive on paper, and a resume full of startups people pretend to like on LinkedIn.

But I was miserable.

Burnout in Disguise

You don’t always recognize burnout until it’s behind the wheel.

For me, it looked like:

• Staring at a screen until my eyes twitched.
• Counting stock options while eating dinner alone.
• Pretending to be excited about promotions that meant more hours, not more peace.

One night, I searched "jobs that don't make you want to cry" and landed on a Reddit thread where someone said:

"I work at a Goodwill in Oregon. I make $16 an hour. I get to talk to people, listen to music, and go home without taking work with me. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been."

Something about that stuck with me.

The Leap

Within a month, I had sold half my stuff, ended my lease, and moved back to the Midwest where I grew up. I applied to every thrift store, bookstore, and coffee shop within a 10-mile radius.

I ended up folding cardigans and pricing used dishware at a local non-profit thrift shop.

My starting wage was $13.75/hour.

I’ve never looked back.

What I Gained by “Losing” Everything

I lost my job title. My apartment. My "network."

But I gained:

• Mornings that start with sunlight, not Slack.
• A community of regulars who come in just to talk.
• Time to breathe. To think. To read.
• A kind of joy I thought was reserved for people in retirement commercials.

Do I miss the money? Sometimes.

But I don’t miss the Sunday night dread. I don’t miss the 3AM emails. I don’t miss pretending that constant anxiety was just “ambition.”

Why I’m Sharing This

No, I’m not telling you to quit your job.

I’m telling you that freedom might look different than you expected.

For me, it looked like walking away from prestige and into a tiny store where people drop off their old puzzles and leave with stories.

If you're exhausted, if you're searching, if you're wondering whether there's another way—there is.

You just have to be brave enough to choose it.

The Unexpected Lessons

Working at the thrift store taught me things no tech bootcamp ever could. I learned patience from elderly customers who wanted to chat about their grandkids. I learned resourcefulness from coworkers who could turn a torn blouse into a display piece. And I learned humility—real humility—not the kind you fake in job interviews. Every item that came through the door had a story, and every person I met reminded me that value isn’t measured in dollars or downloads.

Redefining Success

Success, for me, used to be metrics: salary brackets, startup equity, and how many unread emails I had. Now, it’s whether I made someone’s day a little brighter. Whether I left work with my soul intact. Whether I felt like I was living, not just surviving. If you told me five years ago that I’d find joy in sorting books and steaming old jackets, I would’ve laughed. But now I know: peace is the real promotion. And I finally got it.

Author's Note:

This story isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about remembering what matters. I hope it reminds you that your worth isn't tied to your job title, your zip code, or your income.

Sometimes, the most radical thing you can do... is slow down.