Regret, Donuts, and the Lease I Shouldn’t Have Signed

Confession time: I once signed a car lease because the dealership had free donuts.

That sounds like a joke, but unfortunately, it’s not. I was 27, running late for work, and more than slightly hungover. So, when I walked into the showroom, the smell of warm glaze and new upholstery short-circuited my common sense.

Thirty minutes later, I drove away in a car I didn’t particularly want, with a lease I barely understood. It took all of four days for the deep, gnawing, full-body regret to kick in, and there I was, googling ways to get out of a lease at 2 a.m.

The Modern Lease Trap: Shiny Cars, Fast Talk, Fine Print

If you’ve never leased a car, here’s how it usually works: You get lured in by low monthly payments and the promise of driving something sleek and new. It feels like luxury at a discount. And to be fair, for some people, it is. After all, not that long ago, almost one‑in‑three new cars were leased.

But for people like me, who panic-commit to a vehicle because of social pressure and a well-timed pastry, it can become a financial straitjacket. The lease locks you into two or three years, and getting out early makes trying to cancel a gym membership look like a walk in the park.

The thing I failed to anticipate most was the fact that life moves fast. Or at least faster than lease terms.

Six months after signing, I got a remote job and stopped commuting. Three months after that, my girlfriend and I moved in together and decided we didn’t need two cars. Suddenly, my lease was no longer just inconvenient, but a completely unnecessary drain on my bank account.

But there is still light at the end of this tunnel.

Your Options Are Limited, But They Exist

After several evenings of deep research, I found that getting out of a lease wasn’t impossible, just really convoluted. None of the options feel great, but some are less painful than others.

Here are the five that kept popping up, and how I personally tried (and failed) to use three of them:

1. Lease transfer – This is the move where you find someone else to take over your lease. Some companies let you do this easily; others treat it like you’re trying to sell them your kidney. I posted my lease on a site, got three inquiries, and one guy who ghosted me after I sent him the VIN. Still, this is often the cleanest break if you can find the right match.
2. Buyout and sell – The idea here is you buy the car from the lease (which requires a decent chunk of cash or financing) and then try to sell it yourself. It sounds great in theory until you realize your car’s value has depreciated faster than a carton of strawberries in July. I ran the numbers and noped right out of that one.
3. Early termination – Basically, you give the car back and pay the penalty. It’s like breaking a lease on an apartment. As you might expect, the fee can be brutal, but if you’re desperate, it’s a sure exit.
4. Negotiate with the dealer – This is a long shot. Unless you’re leasing from a dealer who’s unusually compassionate (or really needs to move inventory), they’re not exactly motivated to help you out. That said, it never hurts to ask. I tried. It didn’t work.
5. Third-party services – This was the game-changer for me. There are entire businesses now built around helping people get out of leases. They walk you through the options, sometimes even take the car off your hands. It still cost me money, but it was less than the penalty and more emotionally satisfying than my other options.

Psychology of Escaping Bad Deals

One thing I didn’t really expect to learn from this whole ordeal is how hard it is to admit you made a bad choice, even if every logical part of your brain knows it.

I delayed making a decision for weeks because I was embarrassed that I had signed the lease in the first place, that I hadn’t read it closely, and that I had gotten emotionally manipulated by the promise of chrome rims and cinnamon sugar.

But once I acknowledged that sunk costs are sunk, things got easier. I began to see the car as a problem to solve, rather than a symbol of failure. And, like most problems, once I stopped avoiding it, solutions started to appear.

I now drive a used, slightly scratched hatchback that I bought outright at an auction with no payments, no lease terms, and no dealership donuts clouding my judgment. It’s not flashy, and it doesn’t smell new, but I chose it with a clear head.

If you’re currently sitting in a lease you regret or you just realized your lifestyle doesn’t match your vehicle, it’s okay to rethink things. And maybe skip the free pastries next time.