“Being a downshifter has its ups and downs. It’s great to have free time to yourself but on the other hand you don’t earn much, and this creates a lot of frustration. You can’t afford to go anywhere nice. Not to mention you aren’t getting any recognition from society.”
— Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop

I had a decent job; comfortable, easy, monotonous. Yet I felt more burnt out than I should have. A tiny little voice in my head urged me to leave it all and the city with it, but my bank account kept me in check. One day, the money just couldn’t make up for the stress of going into work. That’s when I decided to quit. At first, I had a solid plan that would soft launch me back into the same kind of work—with more money. That took an unwelcome detour which left me with no job, not many prospects, and absolutely no desire to return to the hustle.

I found myself packing my bags and heading to the mountains for a hospitality gig that paid even less. Surely, if the pay was less, so would be the work. Living where people vacation sounded like a win. Right? Wrong. I put in more hours, struggled to adjust, and found even less time for myself. The dignity of labour is truly measured by how much “desk” your desk job truly entails. Reality was far removed from my expectations.

Quiet mountain road

What I learnt from my experience

Cutting costs isn’t pleasant

Only someone who doesn’t worry about money can underestimate how much leverage it brings. It wasn’t just buying fewer things; it was the constant worry I wouldn’t have enough. I started going out less, stopped taking care of myself, and even stopped seeing friends as much.

An unforeseen identity crisis

For so many of us, work defines who we are. When you meet someone new, “what do you do?” arrives fast. Going from corporate to a small role in hospitality was often met with suspicion and judgment, no matter how well people tried to hide it. We see ourselves through society’s lens—and what people think of us matters.

Personal time turned out to be a myth

The whole point of choosing a simpler life was to invest more time in myself. The truth: your habits follow you. Mine were over-pleasing bosses, never saying no, and never feeling like I was doing enough. Even after quitting, I worked just as hard for much less and barely had time to unwind.

So would I recommend it?

Downshifting has its place. With flexible work and shifting values, more people are hopping in. Many report being happier and more fulfilled. But there are tradeoffs. Here’s what I would do differently:

  • Have a plan. Build a small nest egg to get through the first few months comfortably. Uncertainty is built in; cash buys you breathing room.
  • Choose an alternate path carefully. Know what burned you out. Pick work that avoids the same triggers—whether that’s physical, mental, or cultural.
  • Test the waters. Ease into the new life. Try the new hobby or job without over-committing. It’s not about being the best; it’s about checking if it’s best for you.

Just have an open mind. You may have exhausted other possibilities. It may work; it may not. You won’t know until you try. It is a risk, but the reward could be peace of mind and a more fulfilling life. Passing over a high-profile career doesn’t mean you’ve given up on hopes, dreams, or goals. It’s a respite to do things on your own timeline, without compromising your wellness.