Leaving a job I love

They say all good things come to an end, and in the same year Andy Robertson and Mo Salah said goodbye to Liverpool after 9 years, I find myself saying goodbye to Billie, and Berlin, after almost 7.

It was an extremely tough decision to make. Extremely. I have nothing but gratitude for my experience at Billie and for the opportunity to live in Berlin. Our plan was to experience something new for 1 or 2 years. We stayed for almost 7, and that’s largely down to how much pull Billie has had over me.

Whilst my love for the job didn’t change, neither did our love for Scotland. Our desire to return home “one day” has been ever-present, and now the time feels right…ish… I think.

How it started

How did it start? Out of curiosity, I suppose. Watching my brother relocate to Berlin sparked something in me and made me a bit less stubborn about staying in Scotland forever. When jobs from further afield crossed my LinkedIn inbox, instead of dismissing them, I pursued them. I didn’t have a decision to make until I had an offer, right? So no harm in exploring.

I interviewed for companies in England and the U.A.E before being presented with three roles in Berlin to apply for.

To be honest, I never expected an offer from any of these companies when I was applying in 2019. I’d spent my career in smaller companies, working with smaller teams, and suddenly here was one of the biggest B2B fintech players in Europe willing to take a chance on me.

Funnily enough, I said no initially. I turned the offer down, instantly regretted it, and went back to Billie not long after to see if the offer was still on the table. Luckily, it was.

I had the same agony back then - actually, it was worse. Convincing myself to leave home, leave a job I liked, watching my wife leave hers, and both of us leaving friends and family behind to plunge into a foreign country with no German-speaking ability between us - that was a genuine test of character. I still remember landing in Berlin with our suitcases, trying to find our temporary apartment, wondering if we’d made a wise decision.

I also remember starting work and colleagues not understanding me, then watching elocution videos on YouTube and trying to soften my accent, slow myself down, and change how I spoke so I’d be easier to understand.

It’s not always been easy, but it’s been worth it, and putting the job aside, we’ve grown a lot since moving here.

What kept me there so long

“1 or 2 years” turned into almost 7 for a few reasons.

There’s the work itself - solving hard, genuinely interesting problems. Fintech has a way of making you earn your understanding of a domain, and once it clicked, it really clicked. Mistakes can cost money, fast, but navigating that and solving complex problems is very rewarding.

There’s also my team. People have come and gone, but there’s been a core group I’ve worked with for a long time, and having good teammates you can trust, talk with, and sometimes argue with makes a huge difference.

I also appreciate the exposure I’ve had to people from all over the world. When I joined Billie, they were growing fast and bringing people in from all over. Watching it grow from a plucky fintech into one of the biggest B2B players in the space, adapting along the way and getting to grow alongside it, was genuinely special.

The company culture has been important too. There was trust from the company to just get shit done. For the most part, politics were absent and there was no policing or micromanagement. It wasn’t always perfect, but it was close. These are things you don’t really find out until you are embedded in a company - no job advert or interview can give you that comfort upfront.

Seven years is a long time to keep choosing somewhere, but Billie earned it. I always felt like I was treated well, compensated fairly, and even as I write this, my anxious brain continues to question the decision to leave.

The pull of home

That “one day” I mentioned earlier, when we would return home, had been sitting quietly in the background for the better part of those seven years. It’s something my wife and I both agreed on, but my job kept pushing that day further and further back.

Visiting Arran in early 2026 seemed to create a pull for me. Everything clicked on that trip. The weather, the Airbnb, the time we had - it all warmed us up and reminded us what home could offer. By the end of it, we were semi-jokingly planning our future living on Arran.

There’s a smaller, quieter thread here too. My relationship with alcohol has changed over the last year, and for me, Berlin has always been a city that shines brighter with a drink in your hand. I remember coming here for the first time and walking around the street with a bottle of beer, thinking it was so damn cool. I loved the street beers, office beers, Spati beers, beer gardens, and the infinite selection of bars - all of it within 30 minutes on public transport. I had amazing times here.

But in my current sober state, some of that shine has gone for me, and in its place is a pull towards something slower and closer to nature - and most places in Scotland beat Berlin in that department.

When you add in family, familiarity, our long-term plans, and no language barrier, the decision stops being romantic and starts being practical.

What I’ll miss

This is the part that’s harder to write, and probably the part that matters most.

I’ll miss my brother immensely, who was already living in Berlin when we arrived. At first, I was very worried I’d be stepping on his toes, but he is one of the most important people in my life, and living here has brought us closer together than I ever could have imagined. That alone makes this whole thing difficult in a way none of the practical benefits can compensate for.

I’ll also miss the friendships we built here - the ones that made a foreign city start to feel like home.

I’ll miss having seven years of domain knowledge at work loaded into my head. There’s a particular kind of confidence that comes from knowing exactly where the bodies are buried in a codebase, and I’m about to trade that for starting from scratch.

Where I land

I don’t think this ends wrapped up with a neat bow, so I’m not going to force one.

Leaving sucks. Leaving is exciting. Starting something new is hard. Staying where you’re comfortable is easy.

Despite my time at Billie running out, I still love it. That’s not going to stop being true just because I’ve handed in notice, packed some boxes, and booked a flight home.

I think that’s the point worth taking from all of this, if there is one: you don’t need to hate a company to leave it. Sometimes it’s not about running away from something bad. It’s about walking towards something else, while grieving the good thing you’re leaving behind.

Seven years, my brother, colleagues and friends I’m not ready to say a proper goodbye to yet, more gratitude than I know what to do with, and a flat waiting for us back in Scotland.

Who knows, maybe I’ll cross paths with Berlin and Billie again in the future, but until then…

Thank you Billie, thank you Berlin.