Golden Handcuffs: the three locks you have to unpick to break free.
You may feel imprisoned in a high-paying job you’ve outgrown, or grown tired of, because you don’t think you can afford to leave.
The salary matters, of course. But there are actually three locks to those handcuffs and the financial one is often the easiest one to unlock.
That is why people can have more than enough money to make a change but still feel completely trapped.
Why we end up shackled to a high-paying job
Most people don’t consciously decide to build a life that depends on a job they may one day hate. It creeps up on us gradually.
In your twenties, you are trying to establish yourself. You want some security, a decent standard of living and evidence that your career is moving somewhere.
In your thirties, things start to happen: promotions, pay rises, more responsibilities and you feel proud of what you’ve achieved, so you want to enjoy some of the benefits.
This is where the lifestyle creep starts: a nicer car, a bigger home, fancy holiday, maybe private school fees for the kids, a chunkier pension contribution or other commitments that didn’t feel so affordable a few years ago.
Before long, your life surrounding the job depends on the income from it. And we call this situation Golden Handcuffs.
None of this makes you greedy or foolish. It is a natural result of ambition, social comparison and a corporate system that rewards us with status, money and recognition.
The problem comes when the work no longer fits but the rewards still do. One of the most dangerous things about high pay is that it can make us tolerate what we hate. You may dislike the pressure, the culture, the politics, the travel or the person you have become while doing the job.
The salary acts as an anaesthetic. It makes another year seem bearable - we’ll come on to One More Year Syndrome....
So you stay. And the handcuffs tighten their grip.
1. The Money Lock
The obvious problem is that you’re tied to the income. But underneath that is a more difficult question:
How much is enough?
Most people have never properly defined it. You may have had a financial target five or ten years ago, such as a particular salary, a certain pension pot or an amount of savings. There is a good chance you have already passed it.
So why are you still climbing?
Instead of looking down at how far you’ve come, you look sideways at your peers. Who earns more? Who has a bigger role? Who seems to be pulling ahead? Are you falling behind?
Comparison keeps moving the finish line.
At the same time, your spending has probably grown alongside your income. What once felt luxurious now feels normal. I’m not suggesting you need to resign tomorrow and live on baked beans.
But I am suggesting you get clarity on these four questions:
What does “enough” mean for the life I genuinely want?
Which of my costs are essential, and which are simply habitual?
What would I keep if my income fell?
How much financial runway would give me meaningful choice?
You may discover that the number required to support a perfectly comfortable life is actually a lot less than you think. When you also factor in what your current job is costing you in health, happiness, stress and dissatisfaction, could you trade some of it?
There is another trap to be aware of here too.
When people feel unhappy in a demanding, highly paid job, the easiest response is often to find another demanding, highly paid job.
Sometimes that works. But if the real issue is not the employer but the shape of your life, you may simply swap one set of golden handcuffs for another. The grass is not always greener.
2. The Story Lock
The second lock is about identity. For decades, your job title may have been your answer to the question: “What do you do?”
Partner, Managing Director, Senior Vice President, Head of…
The answer earns recognition. It tells people something about your competence, status and place in the world. Over time, the job becomes more than something you do - it becomes part of the story you tell yourself about who you are.
That creates what I call The Party Problem.
Imagine that you leave the senior role and someone at a dinner asks what you do now. You say: “I stepped away from corporate life to spend more time gardening, reading and working on a few projects I care about.”
That conversation now becomes slightly awkward because you’ve deviated from the expected script. Not only are you no longer signalling progress in the way people are used to, but you might also be reminding them that they’ve made choices that are making them unhappy too.
So you stay shackled to this prestigious job because you can’t answer the question “Who am I without this job?”
But you were always more than the job. You might also be a spouse, a parent, a carer, a marathon runner, a musician or artist, volunteer, baker, classic car restorer, DIY enthusiast, or a gardener.
These are not minor activities squeezed around the important business of your career (although you probably think they are). They are part of your identity. Psychologists sometimes describe this as having a complex identity: a sense of self built from several meaningful roles rather than one dominant source of status.
That matters because when one area of life becomes difficult (like your job), the others can still hold you up. A person whose whole identity rests on work is especially vulnerable when work stops going well.
A person who also values relationships, creativity, health, community and contribution has more places from which to draw energy and fulfilment.
To loosen the Story Lock, you need a new way of measuring success.
Try the ‘But For’ test. What wouldn’t have happened ‘but for you’? Where have you made a difference to someone or something because you showed up with your attention, skills, experience and empathy?
You are more than your job. And you are having an impact in more realms than you probably give yourself credit for. The job is just one part of that and you can tell yourself a different story.
To ease the transition out of the golden handcuffs, sometimes the right answer is to stay and set a timetable to move. While you’re transitioning, you might reduce your hours, move sideways, renegotiate the remit, remove some travel or stop chasing the next promotion.
3. The Regret Lock
The third lock is the hardest to release.
It is the fear not only of what you might lose by leaving, but of what you might lose by staying.
This lock often comes into focus after a catalyst: a health scare, a bereavement, redundancy, divorce or illness. These life quakes have a way of stripping away the comforting illusion that there will always be more time. That is when people begin to ask different questions.
How long can I keep doing this? What is this job costing me? What am I postponing? What will I regret if nothing changes?
Bronnie Ware, a palliative care nurse who compiled the regrets she heard from people she was caring for, identified two recurring themes that are particularly relevant here. The most common regret she heard was:
"I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."
And the second most common regret (which she heard from every male patient she nursed) was: "I wish I hadn't worked so hard."
Yet people in high-paying jobs regularly fall into what I call One More Year Syndrome.
One more year for the bonus or pension. Or until the children finish school, or the job market improves. Or (most dangerous) one more year until the next milestone.
Don’t keep pushing the finish line back! The question isn’t whether another year will earn you more money (it will). The question is what that year will cost.
Every career decision has what I call a ‘Life Cost’.
A promotion may cost evenings and weekends with your family. A bigger regional role may mean fewer conversations round the dinner table. A longer commute may cost exercise, friendships, sleep and energy.
Before deciding to stay another year, or even pursue the next rung, ask:
What is this role costing me outside work?
What might another year take from me?
Which cost would my future self resent paying?
Am I making this choice deliberately, or simply postponing the decision?
The point is not that career ambition is bad. The point is that salary is not the only currency.
The maths needs to include all of it.
How to loosen the handcuffs without blowing up your life
Don’t quit and leave you and your family high and dry. If leaving is the right answer, do it deliberately:
Set an exit horizon.
Build a financial reserve.
Start testing alternatives.
Talk to people doing work that interests you.
Try a project on the side.
Prototype a different version of your life before committing fully.
This is the design-thinking approach I use in coaching.
You don’t need to blow up your life to learn whether another version might fit you better. A series of small experiments can create far more clarity than another year of thinking about it.
Once the current job becomes a bridge to something else, rather than a prison with no visible exit, it often feels different immediately.
There is a third path between resignation and detonation. You don’t have to accept another decade of dissatisfaction.
Here’s your escape plan:
1. Define enough
Work out what the life you want actually costs. Separate genuine needs from status commitments and lifestyle habits. Clarity on the number gives you options.
2. Separate your identity from your title
List the parts of yourself that are not on your CV. Invest more time in those areas now, not only after you leave.
3. Calculate the Life Cost
Look beyond salary and benefits. What are you paying in time, health, energy, presence and relationships?
4. Set an exit horizon if you need one
A job often feels less imprisoning once it has a finish line. Choose a realistic date and use the time deliberately.
5. Prototype the alternatives
There will never be the perfect time. Don’t wait for certainty. Test ideas through conversations, courses, side projects, volunteering, consultancy work or reduced hours. Learn by doing.
6. Change the scorecard
Move from external measures of success to internal alignment. As well as asking, “Am I happy?” Also ask, “Is this life I’ve created with this job the one I want to keep living?”
Which of the three locks is holding you most tightly?