I quit my six-figure job in New York City and now make less than $1,000 a month. I regret nothing.

I had been thinking about quitting my job as a vice president of a New York City-based boutique public relations agency for years.

I joined the company in its first year of business in 2018. As the first full-time hire, my responsibilities grew as the company got bigger. At the beginning of last year, a little over six years into my tenure at the company, I joined the six-figure club. Reaching this milestone made me immensely proud.

I didn’t realize how much it would intensify the pressure to perform. Agency work in public relations is a breeding ground for endless work: clients pay monthly retainers in exchange for being in the press as much as possible. Translation: the work never stops.

While I tried to stick to regular hours, I was often overwhelmed by the workload and voluntarily put in overtime. I rarely took days off. Panic attacks were common. I had to make a change

Leaving New York helped me reframe work and money

When I started traveling in South America last March, I thought the physical distance from New York would help alleviate some of the pressure.

At first, it worked. I was in an enviable position, making US money while living in countries with a lower cost of living. But there was a side effect: the NYC grind mindset, which I had previously deemed motivating, unmasked itself to be toxic.

I would pull myself away from my computer for 10-minute breathers to watch people making a fraction of my salary walk their dogs and cheerfully dance in the park. I barely had the energy to lift my coffee cup.

That’s when I realized: money wasn’t worth sacrificing my health and sanity.

I realized I could be unemployed for a year

After I settled in Colombia for a few months, I did the math. Thanks to my frugality, my savings account would allow me to be underemployed for a year. I figured that if I wanted to quit, now was the time.

When I resigned last October, seven years of pressure lifted in an instant. For the first time, I wasn’t working toward a goal. I let myself just exist.

At least that was the plan. But the burnout revealed itself soon after my last day of work. I slept over 10 hours a night and struggled to get out of bed. My mind had tried for years to keep up with my ambitions, and it was finally done.

I was facing a paradox: I had bought myself freedom, but now I couldn’t handle it.

In December, I flew to Germany to spend Christmas with my family. I’ve been staying with my parents since then, saving money and enjoying some family time after 12 years abroad. I’ve reconnected with old friends, tried new hobbies, and traveled Europe on a budget.

I’m embracing life as a full-time freelancer

The weirdest thing about not having a full-time job is the freedom to make your own schedule. Most days, I don’t set an alarm. After a hearty breakfast, I sit down at my computer to read the news, pitch stories, and plan projects.

I can also use my time to help friends move or babysit their kids. Best of all, I’m finally pursuing my lifelong dream of becoming an author.

I currently make less than $1,000 a month through different revenue streams: freelancing in journalism, working as an indoor cycling instructor, and taking on odd jobs at reception desks and the like. The fitness instructor gig makes me especially happy; I get to work out while motivating others to do the same.

A few weeks ago, I started to feel the burnout leave my body. Slowly, I am rediscovering my old self, the one who’s not afraid of change and worries about the future another day.

Freelancing, however, is precarious work. I often have to stop myself from doom-scrolling the LinkedIn posts of laid-off journalists and freelancers struggling to make ends meet. The clock is ticking, and I can’t live like this forever. I haven’t made this little money since college, and I have adjusted my spending habits accordingly.

Quitting was hard, but I regret nothing

Quitting and walking away from financial security, colleagues, and clients-turned-friends, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Entering uncertainty terrified me, and it still does.

There are moments I wonder if I made the right choice. But I have to trust myself.

For now, I’m putting together a new life piece-by-piece. The other day, a client at the gym mused over what she would do if she didn’t have kids and a full-time job. I smiled to myself. I am that person.