Wherever You Go, There You Are
We’ve all said it—or heard someone say it:
“I just need to get out of here.”
“Once I leave this job, I’ll be good.”
“I need to move. Start fresh. Somewhere new.”
And yes, sometimes we really do need to leave. Relationships can drain us. Workplaces can be unsustainable. Toxicity is real.. But here’s the thing: wherever you go, you go too. Your patterns, your coping strategies, your hidden beliefs about worth, rest, and success—they all come with you.
That’s the part nobody wants to talk about.
Leaving won’t save you if what needs healing is within you. New surroundings can’t fix old wounds. Changing your job won’t magically change your boundaries. Moving cities won’t reset your inner critic. Because if you don’t name the real strain, you’ll carry it with you—and it’ll definitely resurface.
The Reframing
The first pillar of The Reframe is Naming the Strain. We often think the problem is external: the boss, the city, the schedule, the demands. And sometimes it is. But more often, the tension we feel is internal. It’s unspoken expectations. It’s internalized pressure. It’s fear, anxiety, grief, or even boredom, masquerading as burnout.
In How to Train a Wild Elephant, Jan Chozen Bays writes about the practice of paying close attention to small, everyday moments. One of her exercises is to observe moments of resistance—when you say “I don’t want to do this.” She suggests pausing to ask: What am I really reacting to? That kind of micro-self-awareness is where the magic begins.
Naming the strain means asking yourself:
What exactly am I trying to escape?
What keeps resurfacing, no matter where I go?
What discomfort have I made peace with—so much so that I stopped noticing it?
What do I believe I’m owed? What do I believe I must earn?
Until you can name it, you can’t unhook from it. Until you can see it clearly, you’ll keep bumping into it—at work, in new friendships, in the new city, in the next opportunity.
This isn’t about self-blame. This is about self-responsibility. It’s about reclaiming your power by turning the mirror inward. Because if the strain is internal—if it lives in your beliefs, your behaviors, your body—then you actually can do something about it.
And that’s where freedom lives.
The Work Before the Exit
So before you walk out the door, ask yourself: what story am I telling about why I need to leave? Is it true? Is it completely true? Or is part of it wrapped up in something I haven’t fully named yet?
Because when you leave—but you take yourself with you—the same script plays out again. New cast, same conflict.
But when you name the strain, you give yourself a shot at real change. You start excavating the roots. You give yourself language. You loosen the grip.