There are decisions we postpone for months or even years. Not because we do not know what we want to do, but because we fear the consequences of change. The truth is that, when it comes to our careers, we spend a great deal of time evaluating the cost of leaving and very little time reflecting on the cost of staying.
Many people remain in jobs for years for the same reasons they stay in relationships that have long ceased to help them grow. Interestingly, this phenomenon does not occur only in the professional context; in our personal relationships, we also often stay far longer than we would like. Not always because we are happy, but because change is frightening, because there is history, investment, comfort, expectation or, quite simply, the hope that things will improve.
Exactly the same happens in the world of work. Throughout my experience in recruitment and career management, I have met highly competent professionals who, deep down, know that they have stopped growing in the environment where they work. They feel less challenged, less motivated or increasingly misaligned with the organisation's culture. They recognise that their learning has diminished, that their energy is no longer the same and that their relationship with work has changed, yet they stay.
As in a relationship, there is rarely a single moment that determines such a decision. The erosion tends to be gradual and begins with small signs: the absence of enthusiasm, the feeling of operating on autopilot, a lack of curiosity about new projects or the perception that we have stopped investing in our own development. Individually, none of these signs seems sufficient to justify a change, but their accumulation over time eventually has an impact. The relevant question is not only why we stay, but also why we continue to stay when the signs have already become evident.
We do not always stay because we are happy. Very often, we stay because the pain of change seems greater than the pain of remaining. The possibility of failing, regretting our decision or losing the security we know can feel more frightening than the dissatisfaction we have already learned to tolerate.
Behavioural psychology helps us understand this phenomenon. Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky (2011) demonstrated that human beings tend to place greater value on what they might lose than on what they might gain. This principle, known as loss aversion, explains why we so often choose to remain in a familiar situation, even when it no longer fully satisfies us. The potential discomfort associated with change appears greater than the benefit of seeking something different.
There is another particularly interesting phenomenon: the sunk cost fallacy. The more time, energy and effort we invest in a relationship, a project or a career, the more difficult it becomes to admit that it may be time to move in a different direction, as though changing course would mean wasting everything that has been built up until that point.
But staying also has a cost. And that cost rarely appears in performance reports, annual reviews or career development plans. It is the cost of stagnation, the gradual loss of motivation, the failure to keep learning and the postponement of opportunities. It is the cost of remaining in a comfort zone for so long that, without realising it, we stop evolving.
One of the greatest challenges is distinguishing commitment from complacency. In healthy relationships, commitment is reflected in the conscious decision to invest, even in the face of difficulties. Complacency, by contrast, occurs when we stay not because we believe in the relationship's potential, but because we have simply grown accustomed to it. In our careers, remaining in an organisation because it still offers learning, challenge and alignment is very different from staying simply because the environment has become familiar. It is not always easy to distinguish one situation from the other, which is perhaps why so many people confuse stability with stagnation.
There is also a less visible, but equally powerful, dimension: identity. Over the years, we do not simply build a career; we also build a narrative about who we are. Our role, our company, our team or our sector become part of the way we present ourselves to the world and to ourselves. For that reason, changing does not always mean simply moving to a different role or organisation. More often, it means questioning part of our professional identity, and that is one of the reasons why certain decisions become so difficult.
In a labour market characterised by constant transformation, continuous learning and an increasing demand for adaptability, this cost can become particularly significant. Douglas T. Hall (2004), in developing the concept of the protean career, argued that modern careers would become increasingly driven by the individual rather than by organisations. The responsibility for managing one's professional journey has come to rest, to a large extent, on each person's ability to make conscious decisions about their own development.
It is precisely here that the analogy with relationships becomes most powerful. Healthy relationships are not necessarily those without difficulties; they are those in which growth continues to exist. The same is true of careers. Not every difficult moment justifies leaving, and there are phases that require persistence, resilience and the ability to adapt. However, there is an important difference between going through a challenging period and remaining in an environment that has ceased to contribute to our growth.
In the book Be the CEO of Your Career, we argue that a career should be managed with the same intention and responsibility with which a leader manages an organisation. This means evaluating opportunities, anticipating risks, making difficult decisions and, above all, taking responsibility for our own growth, because no organisation can do that for us.
Perhaps that is why the most important question is not, "Should I leave?" As in a relationship, that is rarely the first question to ask; the more relevant question is another: Am I still growing and happy where I am? Because growth does not mean the absence of difficulties; it means the presence of progress, learning and development. Not every relationship (personal or professional) is meant to last forever; some exist to teach us, challenge us and prepare us for the next stage.
The question is not how much it costs us to leave; the question is how much staying is costing us. Because sometimes the riskiest decision for a career is not to change, but to remain exactly where we are.

Article written for Human Resources Portugal.