When the Role No Longer Fits

In the late fall of last year, Clair stood up from her desk in an office that looked out across the Hudson. She had worked in this role for several years. On paper, the job made sense. It offered stability, credibility, and a clear career path. As the light began to fade, the Statue of Liberty stood beyond the glass, pale against the darkening sky. Tugboats moved steadily along the river and larger yachts passed without hurry, carrying people who were not thinking about offices or job titles. Near the edges, the water darkened where the tide turned.

The sun fell early. Cold settled in. People moved between the buildings and toward the subway, their steps quick and practiced at the end of a workday. The street was slick from a light rain and leaves clung to the pavement. Everyone moved in the same direction, following routines shaped by work and expectation. When they were gone, the road lay bare, marked only by wet leaves and the sound of water moving past the piers.

Clair gathered what she needed and left the rest. The desk was clear. The chair pushed in. The decision had not come suddenly. It formed through small acts of resistance. Ideas she held back. Questions she no longer raised. A growing sense that staying required more effort than leaving.

The role had given her structure and standing. It offered a language for who she was in the world. Over time, though, it asked her to smooth over parts of herself that mattered. To choose what was acceptable over what felt accurate. She noticed herself pausing at the door each morning before going in. She paid attention to that.

The security guard did not notice her leaving. The river kept its course. The boats continued on. The work would go on without her.

What followed was less visible. Taking stock without rushing ahead. Letting uncertainty remain unanswered. Noticing that the path she had avoided was not unclear, but demanding. It asked for judgment, for voice, for a willingness to step forward without the cover of a title.

She walked toward the station with the others, then turned down a different street. The night came on fully. The leaves lay where they had fallen.

Many people reach this moment. Most keep going. They stay busy. They move on to the next meeting or the next role, never stopping long enough to listen to what has begun to show up.

Clair did something else.

She stopped.

The discomfort creeps in. Slowly. Then completely.

A quiet hesitation arrives before speaking. A growing distance forms between who you are becoming and what the role requires you to keep repeating. Staying begins to feel like drudgery, cemented in your habits, fixed in place rather than momentum.

When the Role No Longer Fits: What To Do Next

When you realize you’ve outgrown your job, the instinct is to move quickly. To update your résumé. To scan Linkedin. To accept the first opportunity that promises relief.

Before the next move, there is work to do. Quiet work. Not navel gazing but reflective work. I return to a familiar framework when a role no longer fits. Not as a checklist, but as a way of orienting.

1. Look Within: Take stock of who you are now, not who you were when you accepted the role. Ask yourself: What parts of me have I been holding back? What do I miss doing or using or being? Where do I feel most alive at work? Or where do I feel most like myself at work? Clarity rarely arrives all at once. It begins with honest inquiry.

2. Walk the Path of Most Resistance" Growth often sits in the places you've been avoiding. Ask: What conversation am I delaying? What risk feels uncomfortable but necessary? (And, you're putting off until tomorrow, but tomorrow never comes.) Where have I outgrown my own caution? Career paths are not straight lines. They bend toward courage.

3. Be Comfortable With Doubt, a frequent compantion: Doubt is not a sign of incapacity. It's a signal that something matters. Ask: Am I afraid of failing, or of being seen? If I trusted my capability, what would I attempt Or if I had unlimited resources, what would I try? What would I try if I did not need a title to justify it? Doubt becomes useful when you stop fighting it.

4. Invest in Relationships: Isolation magnifies uncertainty. Perspective comes through people. Ask: Who sees me clearly? Who challenges me without diminishing me? Where am I contributing, not just consuming?Careers are built in conversation, not in isolation.

5. Join the Dance: At some point, reflection must become movement. Ask: What is one step I can take this week? What would alignment look like in action, not theory?

You do not need certainty.

You need motion.

When the work no longer fits, the answer is not speed.

It is attention.

Sometimes the hardest move in a career is not the next role, but the pause that allows a truer one to take shape.