Why I decided to quit my job and travel the world forever

September 10th, 2007. It’s 10.30 am and I have been official employed for 90 minutes. I had finally made it through onto a graduate program at a Swiss Insurance company. After countless applications, numerous interviews and tests, I had secured a job and was finally on my way towards a solid career. Everything in my life had been leading up to this.

Every school exam paper, every university lecture, every extra curricular activity was designed and focused on putting me on the working ladder. Depending on your point of view, you may even consider this a fast track position to the top. The world was at my feet and all I had to do was start walking.

So why did this feel so horribly wrong ?!?

A little over ninety minutes into my first day and I had pretty much made up my mind that I had to find a way out of this. This was dull, boring, meaningless and certainly not what I had been sold. Looking back, I can’t recall a single instance of anyone in my life telling me that work life was truly this awful. Everyone just seemed to accept that this was what life consisted of.

At the end of day one, I was left puzzled and confused. At what point in life did everyone stop dreaming of amazing things and start “being realistic” with their lives? The moderately swanky office building in some no-name industrial estate somewhere in the South East of England might as well be a prison. The happiest people seemed to be those that could most convincingly deceive themselves that this was a good place to be. Even those that spoke of their displeasure seemed content to ride it out until retirement.

For me it came down to a single moment at the end of the first day when I decided there and then that I had to find something more worthy of spending half my lifetime. Over the next 17 months, I had a few potential options. A business idea here and there that never came to fruition, though still provided some valuable experience. I had job interviews at top city advertising agencies, marketing positions and even to run a Microsoft sponsored charity.

I came close, in fact very close, to getting a number of these jobs. There was, however, one thing lacking. I was doing it simply to move away from my current situation and not to move towards something I really wanted. I felt this numerous times as I got close to securing a new job. It wasn’t really what I wanted to do.

As 2009 started and I neared 18 months in a job I could not possibly like any less, drastic action had to be taken. Knowing this scenario might occur, I had saved up a reasonable sum of money and after selling my car would have just over £10,000 (around $16,000). Better still, I was just 23 years old so had plenty of time on my side and no commitments (kids, this is why you shouldn’t ask for a tortoise for Christmas).

I went for dinner with my dad, when he was in town, and told him my intention to quit and go travel the world without much of a plan. I knew he would wouldn’t see the positives in this idea straight away. He quickly thought up some dramatic “what if” scenarios but I knew in my mind that that worst thing that could possibly happen to me was that I would have a great time, blow all my money and have to come back to the UK and start all over again, perhaps doing something similar to what I was doing before. When you look at it this way, there really is no risk at all!

After explaining firmly that I did not need his approval, but still wanted it, my dad relented and supported me. In truth I know he is still unsure about whatever it is I’m doing, but I guess it is only natural for a parent to feel this way. After this, it was merely a matter of telling everyone else I was packing it all in. People were split and either super enthusiastic or highly critical – I didn’t have much of a plan at this stage.

I had to wait until March 26th to hand in my notice, since April 25th was bonus day and I had a one month notice period. As fate would have it, I had previously booked a flight to Malaysia to visit my parents and at 9am on March 26th, I was in Singapore Changi airport. I had saved my resignation email in my gmail drafts folder. I logged into a free internet terminal and sent it. I think I actually skipped to the boarding gate for my flight.

A couple of weeks later, I returned to the UK to finish my last 2 weeks of work. Well, I say finish, I had sort of wound down most things by this point already so it more a case of showing up at some point during the day to show my face. I can remember staying until about 4pm on my last afternoon. Longer than necessary, and it felt completely surreal walking out of the building. This was the one and only point I ever doubted what I was doing. But a split second later and I was gone.

I’m not going to lie, there have been plenty of times when I’ve worried if I was doing the right thing, but never a single point since then that I came close to thinking I had made a mistake. It still remains one of the most difficult yet absolutely correct decisions I have ever made.