I got a job offer.
Not just any offer. A really good one. One of those that makes you stop and think: this could change everything. It’s a step up. A chance to grow. A path toward more stability for me and my family. I’m proud of the journey that brought me here, and I’m genuinely excited about what’s next.
So… why can’t I just feel happy?
Why is there still that strange tension in my chest, a mix of gratitude, anxiety, and something that feels a lot like grief?
The Exit Wound
Let’s get this out of the way first: I’m incredibly grateful for this new opportunity. The team I’ve met during the interview process seems brilliant, the challenge is real, and I’m motivated to step into it fully.
But change, even the good kind, comes with a cost.
I’m leaving a job I love. A team that feels more like family than colleagues. A company I still believe in wholeheartedly. Over the years, we’ve been through a lot together: tight deadlines, shared victories, silly jokes on Slack, late-night bug hunts that somehow brought us closer. I’m not walking away from a bad situation. I’m stepping away from a great one. That’s what makes it hard.
Saying goodbye to a group like this feels a bit like ending a chapter you weren’t quite ready to close. There’s no drama, no fallout. Just love, respect, and the bittersweet feeling of knowing it’s time to grow in a different direction.
The Usual Voices
Of course, the moment the offer came in, my inner voice kicked into overdrive.
“They’ll figure out you’re not as good as they think.” “You just got lucky.” “What if this was a mistake?”
Classic impostor syndrome, coming in hot. Even after an extensive interview process where I was tested, evaluated, and chosen for a reason. I know how this voice works. I’ve heard it for most of my career. And I’ve learned to live with it, not by ignoring it, but by letting it fuel the next stage of growth.
The fear is real. So is the opportunity. And I know I’ll rise to the occasion. I always do.
The Limbo
Right now, I’m in that in-between phase. Not fully here, not yet there. A limbo filled with goodbyes, handovers, messages of support, and too many thoughts to count. I keep wondering: Did I really need to do this? Was I chasing something… or running from something?
It’s a natural reaction. Especially for someone like me, someone who overthinks everything, someone who doesn’t jump ship lightly. But deep down, I know this wasn’t a rash decision. It was intentional. And if there’s discomfort in the process, maybe that’s a sign I’m doing something right.
Because discomfort often comes right before growth.
This Is Me
I’m not the kind of person who accepts an offer and immediately pops the champagne. I process. I reflect. I try to honour the people and experiences I’m leaving behind. I hold space for the nerves and the doubts, because that’s just who I am.
But I also remind myself of something important: this is part of the process. This weird cocktail of fear and excitement? It’s a sign I still care. It’s a reminder that I’m moving forward with intention, not ego.
And no, I’m not planning to change who I am. If anything, this transition is teaching me that my overthinking, my sensitivity, my way of feeling everything deeply: they’ve all played a role in getting me here. I’m not going to mute those parts of myself. I’ll just keep learning how to carry them better.
So Here’s to What’s Next
I’ll take a deep breath, let the fear come with me, and still step forward.
Because yes — this is a big deal. Yes — I’m nervous. Yes — I’m incredibly excited. Yes — I’ll miss what I’m leaving behind.
But more than anything?
I’m ready.