The Quarter-Life Crisis: 5 Stages and How To Escape

TL; DR: The quarter-life crisis (basically a mid-life crisis at 30) and its well-defined stages—Trapped, Checking Out, Separation, Exploration, Rebuilding—is commonly experienced in young professionals. The stages involve breaking free from feelings of meaninglessness, lack of fulfillment, and misalignment with purpose.

I detail the stages and interweave my story below.

If you’re in the trenches of this crisis, read on.

Table of Contents

• How A Quarter-Life Crisis Begins

• The Quarter-Life Crisis In Stages

  • Stage 1: Trapped

  • Stage 2: Checking Out

  • Stage 3: Separation

  • Stage 4: Exploration

  • Stage 5: Rebuilding

• The Reframe

Thoughts from 14,000 Ft—How A Quarter-Life Crisis Starts

I'm high in the Andes somewhere in Ecuador. Everything has a yellow tint to it—the mountains, vegetation, even the Andean animals.

It's foggy, rainy, and fucking frigid. I’m drenched, freezing my ass off, and have fallen in the mud multiple times—and I’m having the time of my life.

It was December of 2021, and I’d never felt this free—certainly not in my five years of working in Big Oil.

Back at the hostel, warm and surrounded by people and mountain dogs, the most common question was—"how long you in Ecuador for?"

Seemingly everyone responded with something like “ah, I’m traveling this entire continent, been at it for nine months.” Six months here, four there, another guy doing a year.

It was my turn to answer.

“Uh, five…

days.”

I was cramming everything Ecuador had to offer into one week before I had to be back to my job in the US. The standard approach for los gringos.

If these European, Israeli, and Asian cats could scrape together the change and take the plunge into long-term travel, why couldn’t I?

Dedicating all of my life energy, mental capacity, and focus to chasing oil money, and expending any leftovers on getting drunk to escape it, I was void of anything resembling exploration, purpose, and wander.

I was sitting on a mountain of cash from not doing shit while making a healthy salary.

Money wasn’t the issue—fear of letting go was.

Little did I know, I’d just planted to seed that would grow into a fully blossomed, standard quarter life crisis.

Only later, after I’d clawed my way out of the final stage, would I realize how closely my journey matched this framework.

A Side Note: The Stats

According to a LinkedIn study, 75% of 25 to 33-year-olds have experienced a quarter-life crisis, so you’re not alone if you feel this way. The signs of a quarter-life crisis: feeling stressed, numb, depressed, lonely, purposeless, withdrawal, restlessness, aimless.

The Quarter-Life Crisis In Stages

Stage 1: Trapped

I wake up. I drive to work. I work. I drive home. Pick up my dry-cleaning. Work out to stay ‘healthy.’ Listen to a podcast. Cook. Shower. Sleep. Repeat.

“We do this for two years and then say—is this life?”

Dr. K, an expert on mental health and personal growth, describes this stage as trapped: the suffocating monotony of a life on autopilot.

A quarter-life crisis actually starts long before it’s acted on, often-times months or even years before we see the person take flight.

For me, my job gave me lots of approval from family and friends. They’d pat me on the back and say “you did it!”

Like many, I’d exited college hungry to touch a real check.

The checks were big, especially compared to my ramen-and-40s diet in college.

Yet, the novel money and lifestyle lose their shine over time, and things like purpose, passion, and a great life take the drivers seat.

Life became a predictable script. Grind all week, blow off steam on the weekend to escape.

For many, the script is tolerable—until it isn’t. The shift is subtle at first: a nagging voice asking, “Is this it?” But over time, the voice grows louder, pushing you toward a breaking point.

Stage 2: Checking Out

I’m over this shit.

Pointless meetings. Incompetent managers. Coworkers whose lives are terrifyingly similar to the one I’m hurtling toward. Except you, Will—you’re a real one.

At this stage, the mental break happens. You’re done. But physically, you’re still showing up.

This is a critical point in the overall process, and as Dr. K points out, it is a common, major mistake to try to check back in.

This is where many people stay stuck, forever fantasizing about what could be but never making a move. We tell ourselves, “It’s not so bad. I should be grateful. $100k a year isn’t nothing.”

That internal justification keeps us trudging forward, but the emptiness only deepens.

For months, I toyed with the idea of leaving it all behind. I’d sit at my desk and daydream about trekking solo through South America with just a backpack and a burner phone. At first, it felt like just that—a fantasy.

Most people stop here and remain for decades. Paralyzed by fear, inertia, and the illusion of safety.

But some of us—driven by an unrelenting dissatisfaction—reach a breaking point.

Stage 3: Separation

“You need space—psychological and physical—to get away from what you’re checked out from.”

The daydreams of South America turned into plans. Budgets. Timelines. A fear-setting exercise sealed the deal.

I timed it out: my annual bonus would hit in April, then my lease would end in May, and I’d resign in June. A week later, I’d be on a plane to Mexico.

I wasn’t alone—I was part of the so-called Great Resignation when levels of job-quitting hit an all-time high.

And just like that, it was real. I landed in León with a black duffel bag slung over my shoulder and a buzzcut, looking exactly as sketchy as I’d intended.

I’d spend a month in Mexico, and then roughly one month per country in Colombia, Peru, Chile, Argentina, and Brazil for a total of six months of lone backpacking. [I didn’t make it to Brazil.]

This stage isn’t glamorous. It’s gritty, uncomfortable, and lonely at times. But that’s the point. Only by stepping away from what’s familiar can we create space for something new.

Stage 4: Exploration

Town after town. Mountain after mountain. Long, solo bus rides. Conversations with locals and fellow travelers. No Microsoft Teams pings (if I hear that dreaded sound I may become violent), no meetings, no deadlines.

I was alive again.

But the real exploration wasn’t just of landscapes or cultures. It was of myself.

Spending extended time alone and learning to rely on yourself to make it home each night in foreign, at-times-sketchy places, teaches you about yourself.

What do I enjoy when no one’s watching? What do I value? What am I willing to tolerate? What brings me joy? What kind of life do I want to build?

When the noise of a high-stakes job, social obligations, and city living is stripped away, the signal becomes clear. In that clarity, I began redefining who I was.

Sounds dramatic, but I honestly don’t know that I could’ve achieved this back in the States in familiarity. It really did take physical space to make it happen.

Dr. K says, “Purpose isn’t discovered; it’s crafted.” And during those months, I was quietly building a blueprint.

Stage 5: Rebuilding

By the final months of my trip, my journal was full of plans for the life I wanted to create.

“I’ll join a men’s group. Train Muay Thai. Go to bachata socials. Take Spanish classes. Mentor a kid through Big Brothers Big Sisters. Start my own business.”

When I returned home, I did it all—and more.

I’d built a new life, and arguably, a new me.

No longer was I the timid, burnt-out corporate drone who’d left. I’d faced fears, dismantled insecurities, and proven to myself that I could craft a life worth living.

It sounds glamorous, but trust me—it was earned through suffering. Every skill, every connection, every moment of joy was a direct result of the painful work done in those earlier stages.

The Reframe

If you’re feeling trapped or checked out, you’re not failing. You’re waking up. A quarter-life crisis isn’t a sign you’ve lost your way; it’s a sign you’re fighting for a life that’s truly yours.

The fact that you’re questioning things means you care. And that’s the first step toward building something real.

Feeling purposeless isn’t a curse—it’s a gift.

So, what stage are you in? Let me know on IG or on the site.

And definitely share the article if you got any value, and have friends in a similar place.

To your growth and travels, good sires and madams,

Written in Antioquia, Colombia | November 2024