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Victor Seijas
Journal
Resilience6 min read

The difference between a hard season and a wrong direction

Persistence is a virtue right up until it isn't. Telling the two apart is one of the few genuinely difficult judgements a person has to make alone.

We are culturally very clear that quitting is bad. Every story we tell is about the person who kept going, and the ones about the person who correctly stopped do not get told, because from the outside they look like nothing happened.

So people stay. Businesses that were answered years ago. Roles that stopped fitting before the last promotion. And they call it resilience, because the alternative word available to them is failure.

This is one of the hardest calls I help people make, and I want to be honest that there is no clean test. But there are markers, and they are more reliable than how you feel on a given Wednesday.

A hard season has a shape

The clearest signal is whether the difficulty is attached to something. In a hard season, you can name what is making it hard — a launch, an illness, a bad hire, a market — and you can sketch, even roughly, the conditions under which it eases. It has edges. It is difficult in a way that is about circumstances.

A wrong direction is different. The difficulty has no particular source and no proposed end. Ask someone in it when things get better and you get a shrug, or a date that has already moved three times. It is not that the work is heavy. It is that it is heavy and no version of the future you can picture is lighter.

If you cannot describe the conditions under which this gets better, you are not in a hard season. You are somewhere else.

Check what recovery does

The second marker is what happens after genuine rest. Take a real week off — properly off, not a laptop by the pool. In a hard season, something comes back. Not enthusiasm necessarily, but capacity. You return with more in the tank than you left with.

In a wrong direction, the week off is wonderful and returning is worse than not having gone. The rest does not restore anything, because the drain is not fatigue. Watching what recovery does is one of the more honest instruments available.

Separate the thing from the terms

The most common misdiagnosis I see: people conclude they are in the wrong direction when they are in the right direction on unsustainable terms. They want out of the business, when what they actually want is out of doing the accounts at eleven at night, out of the client who is costing more than they pay, out of being the only person who can sign anything.

Before anyone makes a large exit, we go through the terms in detail — hours, people, structure, what you have quietly agreed to that nobody asked for. More than half the time the direction is fine and the arrangement is intolerable, and those have different remedies. Leaving a good direction because the terms were bad is an expensive mistake, and it repeats.

When it is genuinely the wrong direction

Then leaving is not quitting, it is accuracy, and the sooner it happens the less it costs. There is a particular grief in it that people do not expect and should be warned about — you are not only leaving the thing, you are leaving the version of yourself who was going to pull it off. That deserves to be mourned rather than powered through.

But I have never once had someone come back a year later and tell me they got out of the wrong thing too early. Not once. The regret runs entirely in the other direction, and it runs deep.