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So you've resigned from your job. What do you do next?

  • wildfiredesignau
  • Oct 29
  • 5 min read
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You've done it. You've handed in your notice, had that slightly awkward conversation with your manager, and now you're riding the high of knowing you'll never have to attend another one of Derek's "quick sync" meetings that somehow last 90 minutes. Freedom is within reach.


But here's the thing: you're not free yet. You've still got a notice period to get through, and how you handle these final weeks can make the difference between leaving as a legend or being forever known as "that person who really lost it at the end."


Yes, you still need to show up (and actually work)

I know, I know. You've mentally already started your new job. You've been daydreaming about your new desk, your new coffee machine, your new colleagues who surely won't heat up fish in the microwave at 9am. But your current employer is still paying you, and your soon-to-be-former colleagues are watching.


Turn up on time. Do your work. Try not to spend the entire day on LinkedIn congratulating people on their work anniversaries. Your professionalism now is an investment in your future reputation, even if it feels like showing up to a party after you've already said goodbye.


Document everything (because your memory is terrible)

Remember when you started this job and couldn't figure out how to access that one system, and the password was hidden in an email from 2019, and you had to ask three people before someone finally knew? Don't be the person who inflicts that on your successor.


Write it all down. Every odd password. Every weird workaround. Every "it only works if you click refresh twice then log out and log back in" fix. The person replacing you will either thank you or curse you—make sure it's the former.


Keep it professional when explaining why you're leaving

You might be leaving because your manager has the leadership skills of a wet paper bag, because the company's "exciting pivot" was actually just chaos with a rebrand, or because you've realised that "unlimited leave" actually means "guilt-induced no leave."


Keep those thoughts in your head. Your exit interview is not therapy, and LinkedIn is not your diary. Go with something bland but positive: "exciting new opportunity," "different direction," "time for a change." Save the real reasons for trusted friends, your journal, or a therapist who's paid to listen.


Social media is forever (and so are screenshots)

Before you post that "I'm freeee!" celebration post or that thinly-veiled subtweet about company culture, remember: the internet is permanent, your industry is small, and everyone loves a good screenshot.

Your departure post should be gracious enough that your former CEO could like it without wincing.


Thank people. Highlight good experiences. If you can't think of anything positive to say, you can always go with "I've learned so much" (technically true—you've learned what you definitely don't want in your next role).


Your coworkers are now your network (whether you like it or not)

That person you've been getting coffee with for three years? That's not just a work friend anymore—that's a networking contact. Your manager who you've had a good relationship with? Potential reference. Even Dave from accounts who always steals your lunch from the fridge is now part of your professional network, unfortunately.


Connect with people on LinkedIn. Get personal email addresses. Thank the people who actually made your job bearable. You never know when these connections will matter, and it's much easier to maintain relationships than to awkwardly reconnect three years later when you need something.


Start the handover yesterday

Do not, and I cannot stress this enough... wait until your final week to begin explaining what you actually do all day. By then, your brain will have completely checked out, and you'll realise you've forgotten half of your own job.


Start early. Prioritise ruthlessly. Create guides for the complex stuff. And maybe, just maybe, your successor won't spend their first month convinced you made everything up.


Don't be the person who announces it on Instagram first

Let your manager tell the team. Let HR do their thing. Don't make your boss find out you're leaving from your LinkedIn post that went up at 9:02am after you resigned at 9:00am.


There's an order to these things, and breaking it just makes everyone's life harder. Be patient. You'll get your moment to announce it to the world, complete with that professional headshot you had taken specifically for this occasion.


About that counteroffer...

Ah yes, the counteroffer. Suddenly the company that couldn't give you a raise for two years has found buckets of money and a fancy new job title. How convenient.


Here's the uncomfortable truth: if they could have paid you more all along, why didn't they? And will accepting a counteroffer really fix the actual reasons you wanted to leave, or will you just be the person who tried to quit? Tread carefully. And if you do decline, do it gracefully. Don't use it as an opportunity to list everything wrong with the company.


Your last day matters

Bring in doughnuts. Or cookies. Or coffee. Something that says "thanks for putting up with me" without actually having to organise a farewell speech. Return your laptop without anyone having to chase you. Send thank-you notes to people who genuinely helped you. Clean out your desk so the next person doesn't discover your collection of 47 unused notebooks and three sweaters you meant to take home. Leave on a high note, even if you're internally screaming with joy about escaping.


The world is annoyingly small

Your industry is basically a small village where everyone knows everyone. That junior colleague you barely noticed? They'll be a senior director somewhere in five years. That difficult stakeholder? They might end up at your dream company. That manager you clashed with? Hiring manager at your next interview. Probably. Every bridge you burn lights up the night sky and people remember the flames. Every bridge you maintain becomes a potential path to your next opportunity. It's infuriatingly pragmatic, but it's true.


The Bottom Line

Leaving a job gracefully isn't just about being nice (though that helps). It's about being strategic. Your reputation follows you around like a particularly persistent LinkedIn connection request, and how you exit is part of that story. So finish strong, stay professional, be helpful, and resist the urge to tell everyone exactly what you think. You can do that at your leaving drinks with your actual friends, not in a company-wide email.


What's your best "leaving a job" story? Have you ever witnessed an exit that was either impressively graceful or spectacularly disastrous? Let's hear it.


 
 
 

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