Leaving a team, especially one that feels more like family than coworkers, is never easy.
It’s the kind of decision you don’t make lightly. Sometimes you do it out of necessity, sometimes because an opportunity knocks louder than the comfort you're used to. And other times, you do it because you feel something inside you needs to be shaken up.
For me, it was the latter.
I wasn’t running away from a bad situation. Quite the opposite. I loved my job, respected the company, and cared deeply about the people I worked with. But over time, I started to feel like I wasn’t giving my best anymore. I was doing good work, sure, but something had gone a bit flat. I was coasting. Comfortable. And while that might sound like a good place to be, I knew it wasn’t where I wanted to stay.
Sometimes, to grow, you need that jolt. You need to feel off balance again, not because you’re failing, but because growth often lives just outside your comfort zone.
As developers, it’s easy to think that our job is about writing good code and calling it a day. But in my experience, that’s only part of it. The best devs I’ve worked with, and the one I want to be, don’t just focus on the bit of code in front of them. They’re curious. They lean into the bigger picture.
You might be an expert frontend developer, able to turn a Figma file into pixel-perfect UI in no time. That’s great. But what if you also understood the why behind that design? What if you knew how the backend structured data, or what struggles the customer support team was facing?
You wouldn’t just write better code, you’d become a more well-rounded, impactful teammate. You’d spot issues earlier. You’d solve real user problems. You’d communicate better across teams. None of that is strictly “required,” but it adds up. It makes you more valuable, more adaptable, more human.
That’s what I was chasing with this change. Not a title or a salary bump, but a chance to grow again. A place where I could stretch outside my box, learn new things, and re-engage with the kind of discomfort that keeps me hungry.
I didn’t blast my CV to every company on the internet. I looked carefully. I waited for something that felt aligned with where I want to go, something that could match the high bar set by the role I was leaving. It took time. But it was worth it.
Now that the switch is happening, it still feels weird. Handoffs. Final meetings. Goodbye messages. It’s emotional. It reminds me just how much this job meant to me, not just professionally, but personally. I was lucky to be part of that team. I’m proud of the work we did. And I’m especially grateful for the relationships and friendships I get to take with me into whatever comes next.
Starting over isn’t easy. But it feels right. It’s the kind of good tension that reminds me I’m still in the game. That I still want to level up. And that, maybe, I’m on the right path.