The Moment I Almost Gave Up (And What Came After)

It was 2:47 AM on a Wednesday. The office was silent, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner, a constant reminder of the hours ticking away. My head pounded, my eyes burned, and my hands hovered above the keyboard, frozen. I hadn’t slept more than three hours a night in weeks, and my body was starting to betray me. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the creeping realization that I might have been wrong—about everything.

Six years earlier, I had left a stable job, a good salary, and a comfortable life to chase a dream. I wanted to build something from the ground up, something that was mine. But now, staring at the dismal sales numbers on my screen, that dream felt like a distant memory. The website I had painstakingly designed wasn’t attracting visitors, and the few customers I had managed to secure were already slipping away. I was running out of money, out of time, and, most painfully, out of hope.

For the first time since I had started this journey, I allowed myself to consider the possibility that I had made a mistake. The thought was a cold knife in my chest. I had put everything on the line—my savings, my relationships, my pride. And for what? To end up here, exhausted and defeated?

The logical part of my brain told me to cut my losses, to pack it up, go back to the corporate world with my tail between my legs, and pretend this whole thing never happened. Another part of me, the part that had pushed me to take this leap in the first place, refused to let go. It reminded me of why I started, of the passion and fire that had driven me to risk everything. But in that moment, I wasn’t sure which voice to listen to.

The first rays of sunlight began to seep through the blinds, casting a pale glow over the room. I hadn’t moved from my chair. I felt hollowed out, like I had been drained of everything that made me…me. But as the light filled the room, something inside me shifted. I realized that the thought of giving up hurt more than the pain I was feeling now. So, I made a decision. I would give it one more day.

But one more day turned into one more week, then one more month. The sales didn’t pick up. The clients didn’t come back. And slowly, the dream that had once burned so brightly within me began to flicker out.

In the end, I did what I never thought I would do—I gave up.

I walked away from my dream and returned to the corporate world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I had bills to pay, and I needed stability. I told myself it was just temporary, that I’d get back to my passion eventually. But "eventually" turned into seven long years.

Seven years of meetings, deadlines, and office politics. Seven years of climbing the corporate ladder, of chasing promotions that never quite filled the void inside me. The security I once craved began to feel like a prison. I was surviving, but I wasn’t living. And every day, that little voice inside me—the one that had once pushed me to follow my dreams—grew fainter.

Then one day, I woke up and realized how much time had passed. Seven years had slipped away, and I had nothing to show for it but a title on my LinkedIn profile and a salary that paid for things I didn’t really need. The thought hit me like a punch to the gut: I had traded my dreams for comfort, and it had cost me more than I could have ever imagined.

So, I made another decision. I walked away from the corporate world. Again. But this time, it wasn’t with the desperation of someone trying to escape a failed venture. This time, it was with the clear-eyed understanding of what I truly wanted—and what I was willing to sacrifice to get it.

Coming back to my passion was like waking up from a long sleep. The relief was palpable, like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

I returned to what I loved—helping people across a broad range of projects, bringing ideas to life, and connecting with others on a deeper level. But this time, I did it on my terms.

The freedom I found was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Recently, while in Europe, we were expecting to return home, only to find ourselves unable to leave for an entire month due to an unexpected issue with our travel documents. Instead of panicking or scrambling to find a way back, we decided to embrace the situation. I was able to continue running my business seamlessly, from a small boutique hotel. We spent our days working on projects that fueled our passion and our evenings exploring a town that felt like it was plucked from a dream.

It’s a life I could have never imagined during those long days in the office, tethered to my desk by the demands of a corporate culture that promised freedom but never truly delivered.

Looking back, I realize that giving up wasn’t the end of my story—it was just a chapter. A necessary detour that taught me more about myself than success ever could. Walking away from my dream was hard, but coming back to it, after losing myself in the corporate grind, was one of the best decisions I ever made.

Because this time, I’m not chasing a dream out of desperation. I’m living it, every single day. And that’s a kind of freedom I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Hallelujah.