What if quitting is the flex?
It's OLYMPIC SEASON!! WOO HOO!!!
Are you watching? I need to know your favorite event and why it's curling. Or are we all into hockey now thanks to Heated Rivalry?
I've been closely following a few of the athletes, including the incredible, Lindsey Vonn. If you haven't heard, she's an American Alpine Skier who has previously won 3 Olympic medals and returned to the 2026 Olympic Games after a 6-year hiatus.
To describe her briefly: totally brilliant.
But her recent Olympic appearance didn't go so fabulously. I've seen mixed takes on what happened and the lessons we should take away, and…
I have thoughts.
A refresher:
Unfortunately, the week before Lindsey Vonn was set to compete, she tore her ACL and many speculated that she wouldn't be able to compete.
But guess what?! SHE DID!
But unfortunately (again), that didn't go so well and she ended up in a horrific accident (which was unrelated to her torn ACL).
Now, two general takes came out of this:
Take 1: She should have never competed. She was obviously going to fail. She was stupid.
Take 2: This is the definition of resilience and we should all aim to be as resilient as Lindsey.
As someone who just went on a snowboard holiday, I can tell you, I fall well short of this level of resilience on the slopes (proof in pic).
But more generally, we have been taught to never give up. To always keep pursuing greatness. To be resilient regardless of the cost or the toll.
But I've got to be honest y'all. I'm out. That's not for me.
We grew up on "rise and grind." My dad woke me up at 8am one day while I was on summer break and asked “Are you planning to participate in Wednesday or sleep through the day?” It was 8am!!
"I'll sleep when I'm dead" was a personality trait. In high school, my history teacher regularly told us that sleep was for the weak.
We watched people brag about 80-hour work weeks on LinkedIn like it was a flex. And still see people like Elon 🙄 pushing that as THE approach to success. (you on Mars yet, mate?!)
And for a while, a lot of us bought in.
But somewhere between our third burnout and our first real conversation about boundaries, something changed. A lot of us started asking: wait, what exactly am I grinding toward? And more importantly, what am I grinding away in the process?
I'm in no way implying that Lindsey Vonn made the wrong decision to come back or to ski that race. I'm simply suggesting that the response to her crash led to polarizing views that got me thinking…
What's so wrong with giving up?
There's actually a name for why we don't give up. Psychologists call it escalation of commitment bias, or the tendency to keep investing in something simply because you've already invested so much. It's the reason you stay in the career that's burning you out, finish the book you hate, or keep pouring energy into a relationship that stopped working two years ago. Not because it's the right call, but because walking away feels like admitting that all the time and effort you already put in was wasted.
Spoiler: it wasn't. But that's a hard thing to believe when you've been taught that quitting equals failing
I took a manifestation workshop last night with the lovely Nancy Ulloa at Ulloa Cellars (look her up!! She is SO FAB as are her wines!) where she talked about needing to shed the things that no longer serve us in order to make room for the things that do.
And that idea has swirled around my mind for years. Ever since Oprah's Year of Yes!
Remember when we all collectively lost it over that? The idea was revolutionary at the time. Say yes to everything! Open every door!
But! But! But! The Year of Yes is also, by definition, a Year of No. Every yes is a no to something else. You say yes to the group trip to Thailand? You're saying no to that other group trip to Japan happening the same week and to a quiet week doing nothing on your couch.
And that's the fun version. Now apply that to the stuff that actually keeps you up at night. Every I'll push through is an I won't rest. Every I'll be resilient is an I'll deprioritize the thing my body or brain is begging me to pay attention to.
If it isn't clear, I'm no longer talking about Lindsey Vonn. She is a grown ass woman who can make her own choices. And for the record, I think her resilience is incredible.
But should all of us aspire for her kind of resilience on the slopes?
Lindsey Vonn is an icon. What she did was extraordinary and that's kind of the point.
It was extraordinary. Most of us aren't Olympic athletes making a once-in-a-lifetime comeback on a world stage. Our version of "pushing through" is usually less "historic athletic feat" and more "staying in a job that makes us miserable because we're scared of what quitting says about us."
So maybe the lesson isn't about Lindsey at all. Maybe it's about us. And maybe the bravest thing we can do isn't always pushing forward.
It's pausing long enough to ask: is this still what I want? And being honest about the answer.
I think another form of resilience (the kind that doesn't get a Nike ad) is knowing when to pivot. It's the resilience to say "this chapter is done and I'm okay with that." It's letting go of the version of yourself that you planned to be so you can make room for the version of yourself that's actually trying to emerge.
That's not quitting.
That's editing.
The ability to edit your life like this is a privilege. Not everyone gets to walk away from the thing that's draining them. Some of us are in roles or situations where the bills, the responsibilities, the circumstances don't leave a lot of room for what's next. I see that.
And if that's where you are right now, the big dramatic pivot might not be available to you, but some small shifts might be. The delegating, the boundary, the one thing you stop volunteering for.
And for those of us who do have the freedom to make bigger changes? We have to remember that it's a privilege and use it to create space and opportunity for others.
So no, I'm not telling you to give up on your dreams. I'm telling you to check in with yourself about whether they're still YOUR dreams or just momentum you forgot to question.
And if you're in a place where the big leap isn't an option right now, I'm telling you that the small shifts count too. The boundary you set, the thing you delegated, the one commitment you finally let go of - that's not small. That's the beginning.
Sometimes the most radical act of self-care is simply saying:
I'm good.
I'm done here.
What's next?
No matter how big or small.
Let's go, girls.
XOXO
Kelsey
This Week’s Thing
Set a 15-minute timer. Grab your phone, a notebook, whatever. Write down 3 things you're currently pouring professional energy into — a project, a goal, a leadership responsibility, a strategy you've been championing, a career milestone you're chasing.
For each one, answer these three questions:
If I were starting this role/project/career today with fresh eyes, would I choose to invest in this again?
Am I pushing this forward because it's the right move, or because I've already put so much into it that stopping feels like failure? (Heyyyy, escalation of commitment bias 👋 we see you.)
If I freed up the time, energy, and headspace this takes, what would I redirect it toward? Be specific. What initiative, conversation, or opportunity have you been back-burnering?
Now here's the important part: for anything where the answers made you squirm, pick ONE SMALL action this week. Not "resign on Monday". SMALL.
That could look like delegating the project you've been white-knuckling, having an honest conversation with your manager about a shifting priority, saying no to the committee you joined out of obligation, or killing the initiative that looked great initially but isn't delivering.
You don't have to blow up your career. You just have to stop leading on autopilot.