I Demoted Myself

About eight months ago, I was promoted to a new job within my organization. Yesterday was my last day in that role. For all intents and purposes, I demoted myself.

The decision to walk away from the position—along with the bump in salary and increased visibility—was not one I reached easily. I knew leaving would disappoint the people who selected me for the role. It would also disappoint the group (or at least some of them) that I had been brought in to lead. And I knew some friends would be surprised—if not shocked—that I would give up a promotion and a salary bump.

Despite all the external voices telling me to stay, I had to listen to my internal voice for once. I simply wasn’t willing to ignore the stress, anxiety, and discomfort any longer.

Far too often, I think a lot of us accept—almost automatically—that considerable stress is part of any job. I understand that new jobs, particularly those with increased responsibility and exposure, can be stressful. However, I reached a point where I realized the stress and anxiety I was experiencing were neither healthy nor sustainable.

I was on a short trip to a spa resort in Pennsylvania when it hit me. I woke up around three in the morning with my heart racing, fully drenched in sweat. I sat there and thought about the cause of the anxiety. I didn’t have to think long. It was obvious. Even though I had an epiphany in my room at that spa, it still took me a couple of months to admit that something wasn’t right.

As usual, I did a lot of soul-searching and introspection. I had to examine why I was willing to forgo my happiness to please others. I didn’t want to make waves or upturn the apple cart. At some point, I realized what I was experiencing was very similar to what many of us go through with our parents.

A number of us grew up trying to please our parents. We wanted them to notice us. We wanted them to approve of what we did, the grades we received, and the decisions we made. Unfortunately, many of us carry that need for approval well into adulthood. The hard part is that the need for approval no longer rests solely with our parents—it extends to friends, significant others, colleagues, and bosses.

Perhaps I’m stating the obvious, but handing your value and happiness over to another person is not a good thing.

At various times in my career, I’ve been flattered when people saw a lot in me and tapped me to take on bigger jobs with greater responsibility. I’ve had a pattern of following those expectations, even when I wasn’t sure whether the new opportunities were in my best interest. It was only by working through where I was with this new position that I realized I was letting other people’s expectations overshadow what mattered to me.

When I went in to talk to my boss about my concerns, I felt like a little kid trying to tell my dad I’d gotten a bad grade. I was anxious, with a lump in my throat. What the hell?

Interestingly, I found the balance between wanting my parents to be proud of me and making moves that were in my best interest a number of years ago. My relationship with my parents has never been stronger than it is now, since I accepted them as they are and asked them to do the same with me. If I had reached this point with the people who left an indelible imprint on my personality, why was I so worried about my boss and colleagues?

I arrived early one day and asked to speak with my boss. One of the senior staff gave him a bit of a heads-up about my concerns regarding the job, but I don’t think he expected what came next. For the first few minutes, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience as I explained why I didn’t think the job was a good fit.

I talked around the real issue. I rattled off a few cliché, canned answers. And as I spoke, I could hear a voice in my head saying, “What are you doing? Get in there, Lyons. Just say it. Tell him why you really want to leave.”

Then I finally got clear.

“This job is just more work than I want to do.”

Boom. There it was—honesty.

Forget clichés like “I bit off more than I can chew.” I was straightforward: the job required much more mental and emotional energy than I was willing to exert or give up.

Last summer, I was convinced I needed at least one more significant challenge in my career. I was sure I wanted to be busier and make more of an impact (or what I thought was an impact). That came up in my conversation with my boss, and I acknowledged that this desire for change and challenge was mentioned in my interview.

I’m not one for making a bunch of excuses, so I stated it plainly: I changed my mind.

I realized the pace and volume of work in my previous job were about right for where I am in my life. I have a lot going on outside the office that I want time for, and I also need emotional and mental headspace.

There was some discussion about work-life balance. My boss suggested the idea is a bit overplayed because work is part of life. That may be true for some people, but balance—or even a little imbalance toward life over work—is important to me. I thought of the Dave Barry quote: “You should not confuse your career with your life.”

It's OK to take a step back and breathe

I have a very good work ethic, but I’ve reached a point where my life is far more important than climbing a career ladder. I don’t fault anyone for pursuing more responsibility, compensation, exposure, and accolades. I have many friends who are high-performing professionals. I admire their drive, and I’m proud of them.

I had to be honest with myself first—and then with others—that I’m just not willing to commit the amount of time, energy, and mental space required to work at that level. Not when the consequence is losing peace of mind and the time to pursue what matters to me without guilt. I had to learn—and accept—that it’s OK to take a step back and breathe.

So there it is: I demoted myself, and I’m proud of the decision. I have no regrets. I feel emotionally liberated, and I’m proud that I was able to stay true to what I believed was best.

I’m deeply grateful for the love and support of my family and friends. Even when they don’t always understand where I’m coming from, they listen—and they know I tend to think things through before making a decision. In this case, I didn’t consult as many people beforehand, admittedly because I didn’t want anyone talking me out of what I wanted. I did talk with my wife and son, because the decision affects them most directly.

The financial aspect of giving up a promotion was something Carla and I had to talk through. My conversation with my son was less about the money and more about the “why”—and about my effort to model, as his father and friend, what it looks like to be true to your heart.

I look forward to returning to my “old” job on Monday and reuniting with the staff I’ve worked with for the past six years. It feels like coming home—in a good way. And though I keep saying I “demoted” myself, I know the opposite is true. I found the courage to give myself an emotional and mental promotion.

What about you? Have you ever reached a point where you could climb the career ladder, but chose instead to stay put or take a step back? I’d love to hear how you faced the decision, what personal and professional considerations shaped it, and how you felt afterward.