A little over two years ago, I resigned from a job I had held for more than ten years.

No, it wasn't a sudden decision. It was a decade in the making.


The Warning I Ignored

Three months into that job, I knew I didn't want to be there. Truthfully, I knew even before I started.  From the very day, I was called in to collect the letter confirming my interview date. Something about that place felt off. I couldn't name it. I couldn't point to it. But I felt it.

At the time, I was a single mother to two boys, and I needed a job to provide for them. There was no way I was turning down that opportunity over a feeling I couldn't explain.  I took the job. I stayed. I built a career there. And for years, I carried a quiet unease I didn't have the language for.


Preparing to Leave Long Before I Left

It was in 2018 that the need to exit became undeniable. I had tried everything to fix my working conditions, but by then I knew this wasn't going to get better. I had to gather the strength and courage to walk away.

But I didn't want to leap without wisdom. So, I started preparing.

I prayed about it. I sat with my therapist. I began opening myself up to new opportunities. One of the things I did during this season was start a company LetPhol Wellness (a story for another day, and one I'll tell you soon). Running that business while still employed became one of my quiet acts of preparation proof to myself that another life was possible.


When Things Got Worse Before They Got Better

When I started being intentional about leaving in 2018, little did I know just how much worse my working conditions were about to get. That's a story I'll have to tell you in full on another blog, because it deserves its own space. But here's a glimpse.

Things got so bad that I ended up on antidepressants, a direct result of depression that had emanated from that workplace. Then I experienced a contraindication between the antidepressants and an antibiotic, which led to me developing Stevens-Johnson syndrome.

From there, I found myself in front of a board of inquiry. False accusations were made about me. People falsely testified against me. It was bad really bad. It stayed that way until COVID hit. By that point, I had won every single case against me. But I had nothing left. I was exhausted, and I had no fight left in me.


The Birth That Changed Everything

But it was the birth of my daughter in 2023 that made the decision unavoidable.

When she arrived, a new version of me was born too. This new woman wanted to heal. She wanted peace. She wanted to exist in spaces where she never had to question whether she was good enough.

I looked at my daughter, and I knew this life I had just brought into the world deserved to experience the best version of her mother. My sons knew how amazing I could be. But they hadn't always gotten to fully experience it, because for years I was sad, angry, frustrated miserable in a way that quietly seeped into every corner of our home.

So when I finally walked away, it wasn't just about me. It was about my family. It was about my sons, who deserved more of their mother's joy. And it was, in a very real way, about the precious daughter who had just shown me who I was allowed to become.


What I Carried With Me When I Walked Away

Leaving that job taught me lessons I now build my entire ministry and coaching practice around:

1. The workplace is a spiritual battleground, and it should be treated as such. The battle is never just physical, political, or procedural. There is something deeper happening in our workplaces, and until we recognize that, we keep fighting the wrong war with the wrong weapons.

2. You cannot change these spaces, but you can change you. I spent years trying to fix an environment that was never mine to fix. My real work was on the inside.

3. Always inquire with God about whether that is where you are meant to be. I don't advise everyone to resign. I also don't advocate for anyone staying somewhere that is slowly taking the life out of them. The answer isn't universal but the practice of asking is.

4. Have an exit strategy but don't expect it to be smooth. An exit strategy doesn't guarantee ease. It guarantees direction. And when things don't go perfectly, you need to believe, deep in your bones, that whatever comes your way you will make it. That's resilience.


Life After the Exit

I won't pretend that life since then has been easy. But I have been at peace.

I've made plenty of mistakes in business enough that I had to pause and step back for a season. Because here's something no one tells you: business has a way of exposing the unhealed parts of you, the parts that quietly shape how you lead, decide, and grow if you let them.

Though I eventually closed LetPhol Wellness, I never stopped being a workplace wellbeing coach, facilitator, and speaker. I simply changed direction. This time, I wanted to build a faith-based platform one that still tackles real workplace issues, but now from God's perspective.

And I know, without a doubt, that this is a recipe for winning. For walking in victory, even in the most toxic spaces.

This time, I'm not operating from a place of pain. I'm operating from a place of healing, peace, and a genuine love for serving others who are still finding their way through.



If any part of this story stirred something in you — if you've ever sat in a job that felt safe on paper but heavy on your spirit — you are not alone, and you are not without options.

This is only the beginning of what I'll be sharing here. More stories. More lessons. More of what it looks like to navigate the workplace through a biblical lens, and to walk away from what's breaking you without losing yourself in the process.

Subscribe below so you never miss what's coming next — because this journey from surviving to healed and whole is one I believe we're meant to walk together.



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