A 30-day notice is the legal minimum. A short sample letter that works, what HR actually does with it, and the question to ask before you send.

The first Christmas song played in the grocery on September 1st and my whole chest tightened. In January the year is a field. By September it’s a corridor. Four months isn’t enough time to become someone else — but it is enough to find out something true.

Yes it’s possible; no, you probably won’t hold your salary in year one. The real cost, what actually works, and the question to sit with before you leap.

Her profile is immaculate. Consistent titles, steady promotions, a story that makes sense top to bottom. Then she gets on a call with me and says she doesn’t know why she feels so empty. Your gut usually knows before your brain catches up.

I love my work. Not the LinkedIn version where everything is a passion and a privilege — I mean I actually love it. For a long time I felt guilty about that, because the story we tell mothers is that ambition has to be paid back in apology.

I didn’t call it starting over. That felt too dramatic — too much like failure. So I called it a pivot. A transition. A next chapter. But the truth? I walked away from a stable senior HR career to build something from scratch, during a pandemic, as a solo parent. That’s starting over. And it was terrifying in ways I’m still learning to name.