I’m at the end of my 6-month sabbatical, time that I’ve intentionally given myself off from the corporate merry-go-round after 30 years of ups and downs. And while I am using this time to reset my creativity, be present and play, most of the time in actuality has been spent in what I’m calling “corporate recovery.” I’m recovering from the office politics and 8-to-5 schedule. I’m recovering from a business occupying 50 to 80% of my brain space. I’m breaking myself from using language like “we” and “us” when referring to an organization who eliminated my role without even a wave goodbye or a thank you for my 14 years of service. (That hurt.)

At the end of the day, I was a name on a spreadsheet, a number. My job finally landed on the heavy side of the scale that needed balancing. 14 years ago, I joined my dream job/company that I felt like family in the beginning. But my recovery includes processing that loss. It requires understanding “the family” was an illusion. Companies cannot be true family. This is a necessary realization so that healthy boundaries can be managed. I regret not understanding this in my core earlier, but here we are. No amount of sweat lodges, wellness activities and performative displays of employee affection can change that fact.

There is deep grief in job loss. It’s proven through research to result in shock, anger, depression and identity crisis mirroring the stages of bereavement. You feel like a failure. You feel not good enough. You feel unwanted, discarded and unseen.

The logical brain in me knows the above isn’t true. I wasn’t unwanted and discarded just like the HR manager and SVP of marketing confirmed while informing me of my fate. Both leaders chimed in cheerily via the zoom meeting screen, “This is not about you.”

Logic brain aside, it still felt like it was.

So, that’s the deconstructing I’ve been doing. I’m peeling off that layer, not letting it stick. I’m reinforcing to my inner self that my value and talent are real. There is no need to fear safety, security and my position in this world even though it’s my normal auto-response that comes from childhood trauma. As a kid, I never felt safe. I’ve brought that reaction into my adulthood. Decoupling that response is deep work. Hard work. Important work.

As I’ve been on this journey, past unresolved feelings keep bubbling up – the all-too-familiar enemy stories of old, mainly made up in my head, about former supervisors and managers who never had my back. I resent former leaders who never took the time or effort to invest in me.

A graveyard of unsupportive leaders and colleagues holds space in my head. I’ve held the grudges. Their memories bring up feelings of anger regarding their lack of curiosity about me as a person and a professional. I’m haunted by old foes who never cared to ask about my work experience prior to their introduction. They never assigned me to stretch projects. The worst of them wouldn’t even make eye contact in the hallway.

* * *

I had one leader who came in as part of a restructure with no history on our team. They were someone who sat in maybe 2 or 3 meetings with me before we had a one-on-one where they told me that my skills were rusty. They suggested I consider moving into a different role.

In that moment, I was heartbroken. I loved the role that I was in. I wanted to stay in that role, grow it, develop it further. Sitting at the small circular table in the corner of their office, I fought back the tears. It was devastating to have a person across the table from me not believe in me.

Because of that conversation, I ended up applying for a different position after all. I moved into a new job within the organization because I felt utterly unsupported and unseen by a new leader who didn’t know me or my track record allowing them to damage my self esteem in the process. I needed to grow and couldn’t under those conditions. 

What I am realizing now is that this person put no effort into trying to understand who I was as a team member before their assessment. They went off of what they were probably told during their interview process about an under-performing team, perceptions shared from executive leaders who weren’t in the thick of the doing and didn’t know me from Adam. I was in no position to influence. This leader was uncurious. They had more important fires to put out. The catalyst for that conversation where I was told my skills were “rusty” was based on inputs that had very little to do with me.

* * *

THESE are the things I’m understanding now.

It’s only now, with time and space to breathe, that I am able to distill this information. These 6 months have allowed me to step back, gain perspective and rebuild my sense of self.

It was never about me.

* * *

Another leader in my enemy graveyard is a senior exec who came from a different department to lead our team as part of a promotion. The person in the position before (who I will call Leader #1) had identified for me a growth opportunity. Leader #1 dangled this new role in front of me like a carrot, had me considering moving to a new team that I’d not previously considered. It was an exciting opportunity. Fresh possibilities began to bud in my head. But, as often happens in corporate America, things move slowly and approval for new headcount can be nearly impossible. During the wait, Leader #1 (my champion) left the organization for a new opportunity. I can’t blame them. But in their absence, the new senior exec (Leader #2) was the one who got approval to add the new role and I was barely even considered. 

The interview with Leader #2 was awkward and painful. It was via zoom even though we both worked at the same office location. It was clear Leader #2 hadn’t even read my resume or other supporting documentation that I’d forwarded in support of my application. They weren’t curious about who I was or what I’d done before in my career history. The interview was short, clipped and uncomfortable. I started to ramble to fill awkward silences. I began to second-guess everything that came out of my mouth. I could see the writing on the wall. 

In the days and weeks following the interview, in-office encounters were even more uncomfortable. When I’d pass Leader #2 in the hallway, they refused eye-contact. I’d listen to them talk with other team members about weekend plans and humorous anecdotes but I never even got a “hi, how are you?”. I felt invisible. If I was standing in line behind Leader #2 at the lunch counter, they wouldn’t even turn around. They never acknowledged my presence. It was very clear that I wasn’t being considered for the role. 

Because of that experience, the feeling of being invisible to this leader was something I couldn’t shake. It amplified the feeling of awkwardness with each hallway pass or meeting we’d attend together. It was almost like I wasn’t a part of the team. This total lack of validation hurt.

I’ve valued my proficiency in my vocation for decades. Very often I was seen and recognized, even rewarded. But Leader #2 kept me at more than arm’s length no matter how many OKRs I hit or programs that I launched. The only conversations we ever had was when they needed something urgently and the person I reported to wasn’t available. I was always communicated with as a last resort.

* * *

With distance now, I can reconcile that this person has/had pressures of their own that I didn’t understand, C-suite pressures that prevented Leader #2 from focusing on the lower tier teams they were managing. However, I still find this utter lack of humanity from a leader distressing. It’s something I’m still processing.

Now, what I can understand is that this leader’s treatment of me wasn’t my fault. They did not take the time to cultivate or nurture or care about me as a professional and that is a them problem. Good leaders grow people, lean into employee strengths, find opportunities for their staff to stretch and learn.

* * *

8 months ago, I mended fences with another (former) member of my enemy graveyard. This past colleague was my manager almost 2 decades ago. When I left the organization where I reported to her, I was full of bitterness, resentment and a lot of self-doubt.

But, as the old adage goes, holding onto that anger only poisons the vessel. It may have served me well enough to find a juicy new role with a larger and admirable organization, but the holding of the grudge was not worth the pain that it conjured.

I reached out to this person back in March. I’d seen her liking some of my posts in social media. I couldn’t help but feel she was seeing me now for who I really was, not the employee she couldn’t control. I could feel support in the digital likes and heart emojis that would flutter on my screen. I didn’t want to hold onto the anger any longer. I messaged her with honesty and sincerity. I shared what hurt me so many years ago while also acknowledging the grudge I no longer wanted to carry and a desire to connect again.

What I got in return was a gorgeous apology, an acknowledgement of where things went wrong and an invitation for a glass of wine. 

Sincere apologies can be a rarity. Not everyone has the self-actualization to come to terms with the harm that they may have caused, intentionally or not. So when an apology comes like that, it is a gift.

She and I sat at an upscale, darkly lit bar in Saint Paul. We shared small plates and history. The apology came first but the narrative followed. And while it doesn’t excuse what happened to me, it gave me perspective/context for her behavior at that time. Her story helped me to understand that what happened to me wasn’t about me either. I was an indirect casualty of a bigger game of influence at play. This can happen easily, lower level employees are impacted as byproducts of bad company culture everyday.

Over that drink, two humans came together and shared experiences. We had the opportunity and space to truly see one another and feel empathy. That night was a gift. It was freeing to let the resentment go.

* * *

In corporate America, there are immense pressures from Wall Street, shareholders and the executive wing. There are often out-of-touch group presidents and SVPs who create volatile and crushing climates. Humanity is vacuumed out in exchange for profit. The bottom line is always the most important thing. New leadership from the outside is brought in and tasked with the change. And rather than making that change happen with the teams currently in place, these new leaders make assumptions on past performance and look to the outside for help. They let senior executives brief them on “the situation” in the interview room. Action is needed now. Change needs to be immediate. The result: repercussions, good and bad, for everyone involved. Layoffs. New hires. Then the cycle plays itself over and over again.

I’ve been out of corporate life for almost 6 months now. I’m grateful for this time to process and grieve. But it’s also given me perspective and the ability to dig deep and see this corporate life-cycle for what it is. We are just cogs in the wheel.

This time is also showing me that my enemy graveyard isn’t serving me any longer. It only makes me bitter. I need to mow it down. Plant new seeds for the future. Grow what needs to be grown and lean into the light where I am seen and can transform.

I should also credit the energy and therapy work that I’ve been doing with this introspection. My counselor is amazing. She is using methods like EMDR with me to decouple my adult reactions from my childhood trauma. The energy work is also showing me ways to clear the baggage that I carry. I’m leaning into new healing modalities like sound therapy, Reiki, meditation and journaling.

I’m happy with where I’ve landed. I built something with my career. Not all the leaders that I’ve worked for realize that and it’s okay. I don’t need them to. My better leaders have valued my contribution and have supported me when needed. Then there are the dozens of former colleagues who have been my biggest cheerleaders. I’m so grateful to all of them for their support and insights. The laughs over cups of coffee and pints of beer have been precious and soul-filling.

The networking that I’ve been doing during this time off has also shown me that I’ve made an impact that matters. It also confirms that I’ll have an impact again wherever I land.

Growth isn’t linear, but aging is. I’m not getting any younger but I still have a lot to give. Getting time to lick my wounds, bake a few loaves of sourdough and learn guitar while doing this self-work is something I wish everyone could have the opportunity to do when needed.

So thank you, universe. My mantra lately has been, “the universe has my back” when contemplating my future and keeping fear at bay. But this mantra is also an affirmation of the past as well. The universe HAS had my back. The enemy graveyard wasn’t serving anyone. It’s time to move on which is why I’m here now, typing out these little thoughts in the comfort of my home office with freshly baked bread on the counter. I know that whatever is next is going to be exactly what I need.

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Feature image credit: Carl Tronders on Unsplash