leaving the party
“Nothing good happens after 2 AM.” — Ted Mosby, HIMYM S1:E18
On one particular night in 2016, the world’s eyes were set on two racecars.
In the sweltering heat of Abu Dhabi, under the lights of the Yas Marina circuit, Nico Rosberg beat his teammate and fierce rival Lewis Hamilton to become the world champion. After 11 years, he had finally achieved what every young kart driver (and a million other fans at home) dreams of reaching one day: lifting the World Drivers Championship trophy. He cemented his position as one of — if not the — fastest man in the world.
That same year, Rosberg retired.
Many questioned the decision. His explanation was simple — his family was young, he wanted to spend more time with them, and he had achieved everything he had set out to achieve.
Not everyone took that as an answer they could accept. He was on the top of the world — he could have chosen any team he wanted to represent, any car he wanted to drive. He had it all — but he could have gotten more.
But Rosberg hung up his helmet and gloves anyway.
Around this time last year, there was a phrase that I started using more often:
“French exiting”.
From Wikipedia:
A French leave, sometimes French exit, Irish goodbye or Irish exit, is a departure from a location or event without informing others or without seeking approval.
It’s a common occurrence at any social event — you come in a group of 10, and yet by the end of the event, there are only 5 of you left.
Of course, most have the common courtesy to say goodbye.
Some even make a big show of it, and make sure every single soul in the room knows that they are robbing the room of their presence.
But there will be some who meander their way out of the event, who seclude themselves into a corner for a majority of the night and suddenly disappear, with a rushed apologetic text sent in the morning.
There was a time when I used to be ticked off by French exits. Why would you decide to leave without telling anyone?
But I think I get it now.
Knowing when to leave a party is an underrated skill. Leave too early, and you’ll miss out on the best moments of the night. Leave too late, and you’ll have wasted too much time.
We all have our reasons for leaving the party. Sometimes it’s because of things you can’t control. Sometimes it’s because you’re tired. But most of the time, it should be because you know there’s nothing more to get out of that night.
On a larger scale, I’m not just talking about a night. I like to think of life as just one big party, with thousands of smaller parties littered throughout. We all become a part of something throughout our lives — school, university, communities, careers, relationships.
But sometimes, we can linger longer than we need to. We overstay our welcome, and try to prolong things far beyond when we should have ended it.
More times than not, leaving is hard. Maybe there’s an emotional attachment, or there’s someone you quite like who has decided to stay, or it’s just too comfortable to stay rather than try to go.
So how do you decide when to leave?
First, you have to know what you want.
Why are you here? What do you want to take away? What experience are you expecting?
Okay, these may be a bit existential and a bit too heavy to think about — but at its core, as much as you can, you need to have an idea of what you want to take away.
Maybe it’s meeting a new person. Maybe it’s a chance to go out of your comfort zone. Maybe you want to learn a new skill. Maybe you’re just trying to see how far you can go — even if you don’t really know where you’re going.
Once you know what you want, then you see where the party goes.
Maybe you achieve everything you were aiming for. Sometimes, you won’t, but the party will bring something better. Sometimes, you’ll get nothing you came for, and leave empty-handed.
Personally, my rule is simple:
If I leave now, will I be able to look back at this moment, at this party, with no regrets?
The answer to that will vary. Sometimes, I’ll be happy with whatever I got from the party, and leave happily. Every now and then, I decide that there’s nothing more I can seek to get out of this party, and say farewell. Once in a while, I’ll try to stay longer only to find that it’s a complete failure, and French exit my way out.
Like it or not, the decision to leave must be made.
But only you can make that decision.
I hope you’ve noticed that this is not an article about parties.
If the last article was about letting things end (and celebrating the end), this one is about ending things on your terms.
In an interview long after he had retired, Nico Rosberg explained the real reason why he had retired:
“[I was] afraid that at some point I wouldn’t be good enough and that no team would want me anymore. I wanted to decide for myself.”
We all find temporary homes throughout the course of our life, whether that be for a few years, a few months, or even for a few hours. But at one point, everything comes to an end. Like Herb says to Bojack in the penultimate episode of the series:
“It’s the way it is, you know? Everything must come to an end, the drip finally stops.”
You get to decide if things end on your terms or not.
I’m not saying it’s easy. Nor am I saying that you should always be making an exit plan for everything you do.
Just keep in mind that you have the capability to make the decision to leave. That things can end when you want them to. You don’t always have to ask for someone else’s permission, or wait for someone to push you for you to go. You don’t have to prolong or linger longer than you expected to. You don’t always have to want or expect more from something that is no longer going to give you anything more.
You can leave the party when you want to.
The decision to leave is yours.
