Laura Saperstein didn't leave her job at a 'magic circle' law firm in the City for the money. Far from it. The 35-year-old, better known as 'Boxer Girl', left her position for another reason - to pursue a dream.

Saperstein stunned former colleagues at Freshfields three years ago when she swapped fighting over the law for fist fights, becoming a professional boxer with the London Boxing Academy.

"I'm sure lots of former colleagues still think I'm completely nuts," laughs the former Mergers & Acquisitions solicitor, who had her last big fight in Thailand last week. "But people who make a success of themselves take these kinds of risks. The law can be a satisfying career and a safe one if you're willing to work very hard. But I don't miss [it] for a moment. You earn a nice salary but you have to give your life up for your career."

Saperstein's career choice may be unique, but her story isn't. Newspapers are full of articles about City firms haemorrhaging staff because of the credit crunch, but the reality is they've been losing employees for years.

People like Saperstein who are opting to pursue their passion or work/life balance over the six figure salaries, expense accounts and luxury perks that once attracted them to the City. What's even more interesting is that, like Saperstein, a large number of these people are women.

Women like Catherine Whittaker, 42, who was head of marketing at Coutts, before packing it in to go skiing four years ago. "At work, I had this constant sense of having to achieve things quicker, faster and fit more into the day. I was a big scenario thinker, like 'What are the 17 problems that could arise here', and was always planning ahead 'just in case' which made me live firmly in the future rather than the now."

"I was at a champagne reception shortly before leaving and the finance director said 'So you're leaving all this to go and clean toilets?'"

One day, Whittaker stood back and looked at her life. "I hadn't gone to university after school, deciding to take a year out instead, and realised I'd been working pretty much continuously since age 18 and was exhausted."

Swapping her Porsche for a Subaru Forester, she moved lock, stock and barrel to the Alps to run a ski chalet for a season.

"I remember being at a champagne reception shortly before leaving and talking to the finance director who said 'So you're leaving all this to go and clean toilets?' He was being funny, but I thought he really missed the point, when I was so ready to take a break and do something else. It was incredibly liberating," she says.

Not all City employees are willing risks like Saperstein and Whittaker. In fact, many stories reveal that when men are made redundant in the City, they seek out similar jobs and similar firms because their self esteem is tied into their job and salary, they're addicted to the stress and adrenaline of working in the City, or they simply need a to pay for an expensive lifestyle they've become accustomed to.

Companies like  Realise are being set up to help break this type of thinking, developing 'creative programmes' for business people seeking a new direction in life or their career. "It's an experience that inspires, energises and guides you to the 'next thing'," says David Pearl, who runs the 12-month courses.

"I suddenly realised I had no real personality left in me, I was exhausted and drained."

But countless women have already taken the plunge on their own. Charlotte Brinton was an Intellectual Property lawyer in the City before leaving to set up Fashion Confidential (FC) , a fashion website giving advice and discounts to its 40,000-plus members, predominantly cash-rich, time-poor women.

"In my last case, I won every single point and it wasn't half as good a feeling as the one I get working on FC each day," she says. "It's amazing to know I've gone out on a limb and left a safe profession to do this."

But while Brinton, Whittaker and Saperstein all count increased happiness and fulfilment in their work amongst the benefits of leaving the City, they have not all been as successful at securing a comparable salary.

The 'money issue' was something Polly Courtney was aware of when she left her position at a global investment firm. Courtney wrote the book Golden Handcuffs: The Lowly Life of a High Flyer about her time as a female graduate in the City, revealing what goes on behind closed doors – long work hours, drug-taking, affairs, sexism and more.

She left the City when she found herself getting sucked into it. "I suddenly realised I had no real personality left in me, I was exhausted and drained," she admits.

With her second book, Poles Apart , out this month, Courtney says her career change has been well worth it. "Instead of doing what I did in the City for a salary, I'm now completely following my passion and so much happier for it. Money-wise, I knew it would be less, but I also knew it was the right thing to do. Writing gives me so much freedom, my personality is my real personality rather than the stuffy one I was falling into when I was in the City."

Whittaker is also supplementing her ski passion with short and medium-term marketing contracts for global financial firms. She set up her company Mad Dog two years ago, which publishes guidebooks for some of the most sought after ski resorts, and her marketing work will supplement Mad Dog until it turns a profit.

Saperstein, meanwhile, is yet to earn anything from her career as a boxer. "I had this naïve idea that all you had to do is train hard and do your best but that's not how it works. The only way you can make money is by selling a lot of tickets. And it's easier to do that if you have a big name. Well, women's boxing isn't in the Olympics or Common Wealth Games yet, so it's hard for anyone to make a name for themselves."

Yet, despite the money, none regret their career changes, nor their time spent working in the City for that matter. In fact, far from having a negative impact, women tend to turn their City experiences – whether good or bad - into resounding positives.

Courtney has written about it, Brinton admits putting on her 'lawyer hat' before messaging like-minded FC members and even Saperstein insists she wouldn't be a boxer without her lawyer background, saying: "Most girls can't turn professional because of the money, whereas I'm fortunate to be able to afford to do so."

These women may no longer have the hefty salaries and bulging expense accounts, but the perks of working in the City continue long after they've left.

By Barbara Walshe