The First Quarter of My Life: Law, Identity, and Walking Away

When I look back on the first quarter of my adult life, it was all about one thing: law. Becoming a lawyer wasn’t just a job—it was an identity, one…

Why I quit the law

When I look back on the first quarter of my adult life, it was all about one thing: law.

Becoming a lawyer wasn’t just a job—it was an identity, one I thought I’d carry for the rest of my life. But little did I know how things would change.

In this post, I’m sharing what it was like to climb the ladder as a corporate tax attorney, why I walked away just 30 days before making partner, and the lessons from that first quarter that still guide me today.


The Hustle Started Early

Why I quit the law

I’ve always been a hard worker.

I had my first job at 14 and never stopped. I worked through college and law school—diners, malls, bartending, waiting tables. I hustled, and that hustle carried into my legal career.

I wasn’t one of those idealistic law students who dreamed of changing the world. My motivation was simple: security. Growing up, I watched my mother struggle without much financial independence, and I was determined to carve a different path. Law, I thought, would give me that stability.


Climbing the Ladder in Big Law

After law school, I clerked at the U.S. Tax Court while simultaneously earning a second law degree in tax law. Yes, I went for another degree, because I was laser-focused on carving out a niche and excelling.

That path led me to one of the largest law firms in the world, where I specialized in corporate tax. My work involved billion-dollar cases and going head-to-head with the IRS. It was high stakes, demanding, and to many people, the pinnacle of success.

On paper, I was the definition of “making it.”

I had the financial security I once craved. But there’s a side of Big Law most people don’t see.


The Hidden Costs of Success

Success in that world comes at a cost.

I saw partners who looked powerful at the office but were crumbling at home—stress-related illnesses, heart attacks, divorces. Behind the glossy corner office was a life of imbalance.

As a young female attorney, I also dealt with clients who enjoyed reminding me of their egos and power. It was a toxic mix of pressure, performance, and politics.

Meanwhile, my husband Eric and I were ships passing in the night. Between his frequent work travel and my endless billable hours, we barely saw each other. Once, we had what we jokingly called “date night” at a Chili’s in an airport—he was flying in as I was flying out. That was the reality of our marriage during those years.


The Moment of Truth

I was on track for partnership, and the firm had invested years in grooming me for that role. From the outside, I should have been thrilled. But inside, I felt trapped.

I knew what the next 30 years would look like—more hours, more stress, more sacrifice. And I couldn’t shake one question: Is this really what I want my life to look like?

At the time, our offices overlooked the White House. I was literally working a block from the seat of power of the U.S. government. For many, it was an enviable position. But for me, it felt like a gilded cage.

Then came the defining moment. Thirty days before I was set to make partner, I looked at Eric and said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

That night, we made a decision: I would walk away.


Walking Away from Law

Who gives up a partnership at the largest law firm in the world? Me.

It shocked some of my colleagues. Others probably weren’t surprised. But for me, leaving was the only path forward.

I knew that if I stayed, I would be saying yes to predictability—and no to possibility.

Leaving law was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, but it’s also the decision that opened every door that came after. Travel. Blogging. Entrepreneurship. And now, the work I’m doing in this next chapter of my life.


What I Miss—and What I Don’t

I’ll be honest: there are days when I miss the paychecks. Big Law pays well, and entrepreneurship comes with financial ups and downs. But the life we’ve built since walking away is priceless.

The experiences we’ve had—the countries we’ve lived in, the businesses we’ve created, the freedom we’ve embraced—none of it would have happened if I hadn’t had the courage to quit.


Lessons from My First Quarter

Looking back, that first quarter of my adult life taught me lessons I still carry today.

1. Hard work will get you anywhere—but it won’t make you happy if it’s not aligned with what you really want.
My hustle carried me far, but hustle alone isn’t enough. If your work doesn’t fulfill you, success will feel empty.

2. Identity is powerful, but it can also trap you.
For years, I was “Amber the lawyer.” It defined me so completely that I forgot there were other identities I could claim. Don’t let a job title dictate your entire self.

3. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk away.
Walking away from the law wasn’t easy. It was terrifying. But it created space for the life I actually wanted—a life full of adventure, creativity, and possibility.


The Quarters of My Life

This story is part of a bigger series I’m sharing about what I call the quarters of my adult life.

Each quarter has shaped who I am today. And while law was the foundation, it was never meant to be the whole story.


What’s Next

In my next post and video, I’ll share Quarter Two—how I traded law for the laptop lifestyle, launched multiple travel blogs, built online businesses, and spent over a decade exploring the world.

If you’ve ever felt trapped by your career or identity, I want you to know this: it’s never too late to walk away from the life you built and make space for the life you actually want.


Final Thoughts

The first quarter of my life was defined by law. It gave me discipline, resilience, and financial stability—but it also taught me the importance of listening to that inner voice when something doesn’t feel right.

And if you’re reading this and feeling stuck in a career or identity that no longer fits, let my story be proof: you can rewrite your story. You can walk away. You can begin again.

👉 Subscribe to my YouTube channel to follow along as I share the rest of my story and the lessons I’ve learned about reinvention, career pivots, and finding freedom at every stage of life.

Because the quarters of life keep unfolding—and the best part is, it’s never too late to start a new one.


✨ Thanks for joining me for this third post and video. I’ll see you in the next chapter: The Traveler.


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