Why I Didn’t Take the Next Leadership Job
When I left my role in nursing leadership, I assumed my sabbatical would be a temporary pause. I thought I’d take a break, rest up, and then step into another big role. Maybe a senior leadership position. Maybe travel nursing. Maybe returning full-time as a nurse practitioner.
But as the weeks passed, something became clear: none of those options excited me. I didn’t feel joy, only dread.
My sabbatical wasn’t just about rest. It became a mirror, showing me what I didn’t want and giving me space to imagine what life could look like if I stopped chasing the next title and started building a life I actually wanted to live.
Somewhere in the middle of it, I picked up The 4-Hour Work Week. The book wasn’t perfect, but it cracked something open for me: we accept 5-day workweeks (or 3–4 exhausting 12-hour shifts) as “normal,” when in reality they leave us depleted. I realized I wasn’t looking for another job. I was looking for a different way to live.
Separating Who You Are From What You Do
Since I was 22, when asked “what do you do?” I would proudly say: I’m a nurse.” In later years evolved into “I’m a nurse practitioner, or a nurse leader.
When my sabbatical started in December 2021, I still thought of myself as a nurse. But as I stepped further away from the hospital setting, I stumbled when asked, “So, what do you do? And where do you work?” The truth was, I didn’t work anywhere. When I said “nurse,” people were confused. Even I was confused. Was I a nurse? A nurse practitioner? An entrepreneur? A nurse entrepreneur?
The truth was that my work had become my identity. A friend once told me I was married to my work. At the time, I laughed it off. But looking back, maybe he was right.
Everything revolved around my job schedule. In my first Pediatric Intensive Care role at 22, I worked three weeks of 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. shifts, then rotated to three weeks of 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. Any decision I made about holidays, birthdays, or family time came down to one question: am I working?
My sabbatical forced me to ask: Who am I outside of work? Outside of being a daughter, sister, aunt, cousin?
What I discovered is this: I am a Black woman with a zest for life, who loves to take care of others, who craves experiences, and who wants to move through life with flow. My identity is bigger than any title.
Why Rest Feels Impossible (and Why It Isn’t)
We live in a culture that praises being busy, productive, tired. Ask someone how their day was, and they’ll often answer with one of those words — as if exhaustion equals accomplishment.
High achievers, especially nurses and mid-career women, often feel guilty when we’re not “doing.” Rest gets confused with laziness.
I’ve learned the opposite. Rest is not a reward. Rest is the foundation.
Back when I was working four 9-hour shifts, a friend would ask why I wasn’t using my day off to finally start my “dreams.” The truth? I was exhausted. Trauma cases, back-to-back meetings, family responsibilities — my body needed recovery.
Even now, I find myself fighting the conditioning. Just last week, I caught myself feeling frazzled on a Friday, like I hadn’t done enough. Even though I had exercised, cooked, gone to acupuncture, replied to emails, and spent time with my boyfriend. My instinct was to keep going. Instead, I paused.
Tricia Hersey, author of Rest Is Resistance, writes, “Rest is not lazy. Rest is a form of resistance.” My sabbatical taught me that lesson, and I am still relearning it every day.
Curiosity Is How We Come Back to Ourselves
Adults should never stop cultivating childlike curiosity. I truly believe that.
Before my sabbatical, my curiosity showed up in travel. I flew to carnivals across the Caribbean, then traveled solo to new countries just to explore. Later, I tried sewing lessons, running, anything that sparked interest.
During my sabbatical, curiosity became the path back to myself. I picked up kickboxing, traveled, tried fishing, even tennis. My sabbatical allowed space for hobbies again.
Now, I’ve added steelpan lessons (one year in and counting) and pickleball to the mix. Neither has anything to do with nursing, but both bring me joy. Both remind me that life is about more than productivity.
Curiosity, I’ve realized, isn’t frivolous. It’s how we stay alive to ourselves.
Redefining What Success Means
In nursing, success often comes with letters after your name including NP, DNP, and certifications stacked high. As a Black woman, I was told repeatedly I had to be 10 times better just to prove myself.
That message burrowed deep. I often questioned: Am I enough? Should I pursue a doctorate even though the thought filled me with dread? Would it prove something, or just drain me further? Could I define success without more degrees?
My sabbatical gave me new answers. If I ever decide to pursue another degree, it won’t be for the letters after my name. It will be for the impact I can make with the education I receive.
Success isn’t about credentials alone. Success is waking up with peace, creating work that fulfills, and building a life I don’t need a vacation from.
Today, success is all-encompassing — not just another line on a résumé.
Why Joy in Work Still Matters
When I looked at leadership job postings during my sabbatical, I felt nothing. No spark. No pull.
That’s when I realized: every job I had taken in the past came from a desire to learn something new. My first role in the pediatric ICU was thrilling. Later, I learned so much about patients with gastrointestinal issues, how to respond in emergencies, how to teach students to pass the NCLEX, even how to run vaccine clinics. Each role gave me something fresh.
We are all deserving of that kind of energy in any role we do, whether it comes from our coworkers, the work itself, or the impact we make.
Now, working part-time clinically, I still find ways to carve out joy by cracking a joke with a patient, lightening a tough day, making a child smile. Joy matters. Without it, work becomes just work. And I don’t just want to work.
Life Has Seasons (and Pivots Are Part of Them)
We’re told life should move in a straight line: one job to the next, one promotion after another. But the truth? Life is made of pivots.
Some pivots are forced such as illness, layoffs, family changes. Others come from choice. My sabbatical showed me the power of choosing a pivot.
Since leaving, I laugh with my friends (who are also on their journeys) about how many “plans” I’ve had: Plan A through Plan Q. But with every shift, from launching and closing a tech company, to consulting, to speaking, to building The Nurse Sabbatical, to learning just how hard entrepreneurship really is, I’ve learned something about myself.
The most valuable lesson is this: pivots are normal, not signs of failure. Our goals, circumstances, and feelings will always change. It’s okay if something that used to work no longer works. Pivots are proof that you are still moving, still learning, still alive to possibility.
My Reflection
My sabbatical wasn’t a detour. It was the start of a new path. It gave me space to rest, yes — but more importantly, it gave me clarity to reimagine what I wanted my life and work to look like.
The lessons keep unfolding. And if you are at that point restless, unfulfilled, questioning what’s next – maybe your own pause could do the same for you.
Take care, take breaks.
