Quitting vs Being Laid Off: What 13 Years in Tech Taught Me About Change

I’ve spent most of my adult life in the US working.

For the first 2 years I was a student - juggling coursework, an internship, and a part-time campus job. The next thirteen years, I worked continuously in data and software roles. Thirteen years. Across CPT, OPT, H-1B, and now waiting on an H4-EAD.

A Career Measured in Years, Not Roles

That timeline matters, because when you’ve been working that long, you start to notice patterns- not just in companies, but in yourself.

One thing that stands out in hindsight is how each job change felt.

The first time I switched roles, it was intentional. I wanted to challenge myself. I found a different job, stepped into it with energy, and felt good about the trajectory I was on.

Every new company brings the promise of a fresh start - new team dynamics, new expectations, and often a quiet overhaul of your personal life to match new time zones and demands. At the time, that felt normal. Necessary, even.

The Cost of Stacking Too Much Change

Looking back, what I underestimated was how much change I was stacking all at once.

A young child.

Moving across states.

Selling a home.

Settling into a new one.

Whew! Just writing that out feels exhausting. But when you’re in motion, you don’t pause to question it. You push through. You assume rest will come later.

When Your Body Starts Keeping Score

What I’ve learned is that your body doesn’t wait for “later.”

When you start waking up in the middle of the night dreading the next day, that’s not a motivation problem. That’s your body keeping score. And at that point, the failure isn’t external- it’s internal. You didn’t listen.

So you decide to take a break.

Taking a Break Isn’t Simple When You’re on a Visa

Except when you’re on a visa, a “break” isn’t just a personal decision. It comes with legal timelines and real risk. You scramble to find something within 60 days, send your resume everywhere, and hope something sticks.

Eventually, something does.

You land in a role that isn’t actively distressing - but stresses you in a different way. There’s little structure, limited autonomy, and an underlying resistance to change. Over time, your initial enthusiasm fades. You let things be as they are.

You’ve also just had a second child, so the slower pace feels acceptable. Maybe even necessary.

Then, unexpectedly, you’re laid off.

Quitting vs Being Laid Off

I remember feeling relief when I quit a role. A layoff felt very different. It wasn’t something I chose or prepared for.

That’s the key distinction.

Quitting is an unforced error.

A layoff is not.

That difference matters - not just emotionally, but in how it reshapes your sense of agency.

Red Flags I No Longer Ignore

Over the years, I’ve learned to pay attention to signals I once ignored.

1. The role sounds different every time it’s described

If it looks one way on paper, sounds different in interviews, and feels entirely different in reality -that’s a problem.

I used to pride myself on being adaptable, on “roughing it out.” I don’t anymore. I now know I thrive in environments with clear structure and defined responsibilities - and the autonomy to be creative within that structure.

2. The title changes when the offer arrives

This one is straightforward. If you interview for one role and the title shifts at the last minute, it often signals ambiguity and scope creep. I now avoid roles where expectations are left open to interpretation.

3. Know your worth - even when options feel limited

Being on a visa complicates everything. Sometimes it feels like you don’t have a real choice. Still, doing your research and understanding your market value matters. Settling out of fear has long-term costs.

An Intentional Pause

All of this is to say: I’m on a longer break this time.

An intentional pause - to understand myself better and to recalibrate.

I’m focusing on other areas of life.

Being present for my people.

Building support systems around me.

Finding joy in execution rather than constant planning.

And trusting that, eventually, things will fall into place

Conclusion

Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is pause long enough to understand what you actually need.