One Year Later: Why I Left Policing and What I've Learned Since

A year ago today, I made one of the most difficult decisions of my life: I left policing after 10 years on the job.?

Policing was a role that defined me for a decade. It shaped my identity, my worldview, and even my body—quite literally. The scars are a daily reminder of the experiences that will surely influence the rest of my life, and act as lessons to carry forward.

Leaving wasn’t an easy choice, but it was definitely the right one.?Lately, I’ve been thinking about what led me to leave, what I’ve learned in the time since, and how much has changed for the better, so I thought I’d share some of those reflections with you.

The Past

I wanted to be a cop for as long as I can remember. Although I started my professional journey in the military, that journey was always in pursuit of a career in policing. When I graduated and earned my badge, I knew, I made it.?

Like most cops, policing was a huge part of my identity. It gave me a sense of purpose, status, and belonging. And it was that deep connection to the role that made it so hard to walk away.

The road to this point has been very long and difficult. Everything that I've done with my life over the past decade has been in the pursuit of this opportunity.

But over time, the shine on that badge began to fade. What once felt like a calling began to feel like a contradiction. I found myself increasingly at odds with the culture, the expectations, and even the day-to-day realities of the job.

As much as policing gave me a sense of belonging early on, it was the requirement to conform that I later took issue with. The job came with unspoken rules about who you had to be to fit in. Policing is renowned for its ‘us versus them’ groupthink, which manifests as a strong sense of solidarity among its members.

I’ll never forget being told by a White Shirt, “You don’t belong here.” To be fair, it wasn’t meant to offend—it was just a matter-of-fact observation that I didn’t match the mold of a Toronto cop.

That comment stuck with me and solidified my decision to leave. It was clear that no matter what, I’d always be pushing against a system that wasn’t ready for someone like me. This situation was just one of many that led me to reflect on the deeper moral contradictions I was experiencing.

There’s a concept called moral injury that often comes up in professions like policing and the military. It’s what happens when your role requires you to act in ways that contradict your values. Toward the end of my career, I started experiencing this firsthand. It wasn’t just the policies or practices I disagreed with—it was the feeling of being complicit in a problematic culture that actively resisted change.

One specific example stands out in my memory. In 2022, I was working as a part-time professor in a public safety program after having recently finished a master's degree in public policy. I applied to speak at that year's IACP conference, and my proposal was accepted. IACP is the premier global policing conference, and should have been a career highlight. Instead, it became a source of incredible tension and stress.

After sharing the news with my unit commander, he spoke with the chief and they decided to shut me down—even going so far as to engage the service’s legal department. (My unit commander later confided that it was a matter of jealousy.)

Ultimately, Legal clarified that there was no conflict of interest provided I included all the typical disclaimers: “These views are my own, and not those of the Toronto Police Service, its Chief, or its Board.” However, it was suggested to me that I submit my speaking notes for vetting—a practice Legal clarified wasn’t required, but was common practice. When I refused, I was threatened by my unit commander with insubordination charges. So I caved, handing over my notes and a copy of the publication that formed the basis of my presentation.

The irony of it all was lost on them.

In the following year, I had the opportunity of a lifetime. A prominent, international police service offered me the opportunity to join them on a year-long secondment. The service was in the midst of a major culture change initiative and wanted me to join their team.

Their chief sent a formal request to my chief, but the request was denied. "Who are you to work on a project like this?" The implication was that my role as a police constable wasn’t sufficiently senior enough to speak competently about policing issues. Instead, they offered up a White Shirt. That offer was respectfully declined.

These experiences, just two among many, cemented the realization that I would never be in a position to make meaningful change from within. Staying would have meant spending the next 20 years in frustration, banging my head against the wall, constantly fighting against a system that wasn’t ready to evolve.

This is why I write so much about leadership and culture today.

The Present

In the year since I left, I’ve been able to do things I would never have been able to do when I was on the job. Chief among them: speaking about the realities of policing without fear of repercussion.

I’m now a regular contributor to Policing Insight. I’ve published a dozen articles, including my graduate research in the OACP’s HQ Magazine. I’ve provided news commentary for both CBC and the Toronto Star, and appeared as a guest on The Quiet Professional Podcast.

I also started my own consulting company, where my goal is to leverage my experience to inform policing practices for the better. (Yes, this is a shameless plug!)

And most importantly, I’ve had more time for the things that matter most: spending holidays with friends and family, traveling, and finally having the chance to recharge.

These are the kinds of milestones that remind me I made the right decision. Although leaving wasn’t easy, it’s given me the freedom to build something meaningful on my own terms.

The Future

Even as I’ve stepped away from policing, my connection to the job is still strong. I’ve dedicated my life to this profession and I’m not ready to walk away fully.?

I’ve had the chance to attend conferences and engage with leaders who share my vision for positive change. One recent experience that stands out was the Building Bridges at Blue conference, where I connected with so many like-minded professionals (like you!)

As for the future, it's hard to say where I see myself in five years from now. The obvious answer is working in a rewarding position with TPS [Toronto Police Service]. I hope to gain enough experience to become a valuable and well respected asset within my division.

In fact, I had the privilege of interviewing Barrie Police Chief Rich Johnston—a forward-thinking and inspiring leader who genuinely embodies the kind of progress I believe the profession needs.

Conversations like that remind me why I continue to do this work. By focusing on writing, consulting, and collaborating with forward-thinking leaders, I’ve been able to contribute to the profession in ways that now feel authentic and meaningful.

Looking ahead, I’m hopeful. I see opportunities to collaborate with leaders like Chief Johnston who are committed to reform. My focus now is on building partnerships, sharing ideas, and supporting the profession in becoming what it has the potential to be. What the public needs it to be.

To those who are still in the field, striving from within, and to those who have stepped away like I did, I see you, and I’m rooting for you. If you’re interested in exploring how leadership and culture can drive meaningful change, let’s talk. Reach out—I’d be happy to share more about what I’ve learned and what I’m working on.

There’s a long way to go, but I believe that we can improve our approach to public safety, and that we are able to do so, together.