Opinion: Knowing how to quit while you’re ahead is much more reasonable than refusing to quit at all.
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“Go easy on Sadie,” the chess club instructor says to my opponent. I’m in seventh grade: short, awkward and full of rage. As you can imagine, this comment doesn’t fill me with goodwill toward either the unfortunate person on the other end of the chessboard or the condescending instructor who’s well past old enough to know better.
I joined the club after winning one game against my dad because I loved the idea of chess at the time (who wouldn’t want to look like a child genius?), but I quickly learned I hated the game. Everyone else in the chess club knew what they were doing; they knew the names of chess strategies and tournaments and could seemingly always anticipate my next move. The whole time I was there, I never won a game. Considering my ego was reaching an absurd high at the time, this was hard for me to take.
So naturally, I quit going to the club when I realized I dreaded going to it, right? Don’t be ridiculous; that’s far too reasonable. To set the scene for you, I’ll add I was the only girl in the club at the time, a fact I was always painfully aware of. This made my Wednesday chess afternoons a bit more miserable because none of my close friends joined the club with me, but it also gave me a weird sense of obligation to stay. I reasoned with myself at the time that if I quit, not only would I be a loser who couldn’t make it through a semester in chess club, but I would also be disappointing women everywhere and turning chess club into a boys’ club in the ultimate sense of the phrase.
In hindsight, especially now that I’m more comfortable advocating for myself, I wish I had stopped going to the club when I realized I didn’t like it. I’ll always be glad I tried something new because it sounded interesting, and that’s a mindset I hope to carry into the rest of my life, but I know now there’s nothing wrong with realizing a new activity isn’t for you. It doesn’t make you weak or a flake but instead shows you’re strong enough to get yourself out of a situation you’d rather avoid.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard quitting anything talked about in a negative light. The phrase “quitters never win and winners never quit” has popped up countless times in my life, usually from class of 1985 business major types. I can’t find the words to explain exactly how exasperated I am with this sentiment, but rest assured I’ve had more than enough of it.
On some level, I can admit I agree with this idea; it’s generally important to follow through with what you say you’re going to do. It builds trust with the people around you, and you’ll usually feel accomplished and proud when you finish something you don’t necessarily want to do. On the other hand, the message is way too ingrained in our society to the point that I still feel the need to explain the anti-“quitter talk” messaging was never directed at me.
As I see it, there’s nothing wrong with quitting something you can’t stand as long as you’re not throwing other people under the bus to do so. Deciding to stop participating in an important group project at the last minute without telling your teammates? Probably not the right move. But you should feel more than free to try different activities and discover they’re not for you. Don’t be like middle school Sadie and lock yourself in with a false sense of obligation.
It’s still hard to know exactly when to quit, and it’s not made any easier by online articles on the topic that discourage quitting when you “simply don’t feel like continuing.” But who are they to tell you whether your reasons are valid? I’m not necessarily arguing for a mass quitting movement here, but knowing it’s an option should be emphasized. Ultimately, you’re the only one who can decide when and where in your life quitting is an appropriate option, and it should be a choice you aren’t ashamed to make.
