Knowing When to walk away

We might often hear the phrase – “know when to walk away.”

But in practice, recognising that moment is rarely straightforward. Whether it’s a relationship, a friendship, a job, or even a way of thinking that no longer serves us, walking away requires both courage and clarity. It asks us to hold uncomfortable truths and to trust that letting go doesn’t mean losing everything, it simply means choosing something different.

But why is it so hard to leave?

Humans are naturally wired for attachment. Bowlby’s attachment theory explains why we often cling to what feels familiar, even when it’s painful or unfulfilling. We don’t just bond with people; we bond with routines, roles, identities and expectations. Our nervous system interprets the familiar as safe, even if our mind knows otherwise. This is why someone may stay in a job that harms their health, or in a relationship where they feel unseen. The known feels safer than the unknown.

This experience becomes more tangled when cognitive dissonance enters the picture; the mental tension that arises from holding two conflicting truths–

“This hurts me.”

“But I can’t imagine leaving.”

To reduce this discomfort, our minds try to convince us to stay, to minimise the pain, to rationalise what isn’t working. We tell ourselves it might change, or that we’re overreacting.

Then comes the investment bias. We think, “I’ve given so much already, I can’t walk away now.” Yet, when I’m with a client, I like to ask a different question: What is the cost of continuing? If staying means losing yourself, the real loss has already begun.

There can also be a deep internal battle between our ideal self and our actual experience. Many people hold onto what they hoped something would become, rather than accepting what it truly is. In counselling terms, this is known as introjection – absorbing hopes, fantasies, and imagined futures as part of our identity. Letting go can feel like a form of grief, not because we lose what is, but because we lose what might have been.

When will I know it might be time to walk away?

When your needs are consistently unmet. According to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, safety, belonging, and respect are fundamental. You do not thrive in places where these are continuously denied. Chronic emotional deprivation can feel subtle, but it slowly erodes happiness and self-worth.

When the cost outweighs the benefit. Think of your energy, self-esteem, joy, and physical wellbeing. Does this relationship, job, habit or environment nourish you or drain you? Healthy interactions nurture the self; toxic ones diminish it.

When you begin to lose yourself. Carl Rogers spoke of congruence – living in alignment with our true self. If you must shrink, hide, or silence who you are in order to stay, the price is too high. We do not belong anywhere that requires us to become someone else.

When growth becomes impossible. Sometimes it’s not the change we fear, it’s our own potential. True growth often requires closure; unfinished or unhealthy cycles keep us emotionally stuck. Walking away can be the start of becoming.

Walking away isn’t a failure, we shouldn’t see it as quitting, rather – choosing. Choosing to prioritise your health, your worth, your future. In counselling, I will often reframe walking away as an act of self-compassion. According to Kristin Neff, self-compassion isn’t about feeling good; it’s about acting in ways that honour our wellbeing, even when those actions are hard.

Leaving can feel like heartbreak, but sometimes it is an act of profound hope. It’s a belief that something better is possible, even if we can’t see it yet.

Is there a situation in your life where you’re holding on tightly?

Simply ask yourself: If I were advising someone I cared about, what would I gently and honestly tell them?

And then, consider this: What might happen if I chose myself?

Claire.