Dear Management: It’s Not Me, It’s You

Dear Management,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve been trying to find the words to express how I feel for some time now.

You see, it’s been over a month since you unexpectedly let me go, and while I carried the weight of pain, confusion, and shock on my shoulders for a good long while, I’ve finally been able to move on, to take a breath, to see you for who and what you are.

And goodness, what I saw wasn’t pretty.

And that makes me sad.

Because I thought we had something special.

You brought me onto your team over a year and half ago with open arms. And during my time there, I not only made real connections with my amazing coworkers, but I did great work.

Work I truly believed in. Work that I was proud of. Work that helped take your company to the next level.

I remember thinking to myself during those early honeymoon period days that this was the best thing that had ever happened to me career-wise.

“How did I get so lucky?”, I asked myself over and over again.

But then…something changed.

Red flags started to pop up, slow and soft at first, but then quicker and louder.

I was worried all of the time, restless, anxious, and stressed. I felt like any small infraction was going to be the tipping point. I started to question not only my work, but who I was as a person.

I’ve always considered my kindness and positivity one of my greatest strengths, but I was told, over and over again that all I saw were “butterflies and rainbows.” I was mocked repeatedly. I was made to feel small.

“You’re too nice,” they said. “You need to stop being such a doormat,” they said.

When I finally did stand up for myself, for others who I saw were being mistreated, I was punished for it. Gaslit. Told that leadership wasn’t ever going to change, but instead it was me to had to simply learn how to deal with it.

And deal with it I did, or at least tried to.

I kept my head down. I continued to give 110% every day. I worked so hard, for so long, and I didn’t get so much as a “Thank you”, a “Good job!”, a “We see the work you’re doing and we appreciate the heck out of you!” In fact, you did the opposite; you straight up told me that my position, my work, wasn’t valued. It wasn’t the priority. And if I wanted that appreciation, I would have to look for another job, at another company.

That was the moment I truly felt like I didn’t matter. That I was disposable.

Do you know how that feels, Management?

Let me tell you. It doesn’t feel great.

Initially when you denied my raise, then a week later, told me we could revisit and discuss that matter again, only to be laid off that very next week, I did take it personal.

I thought it was me.

Something I did. Or didn’t do.

Was I not the best writer I could be? Was I too nice? How could they just let me go so easily?

Well, former bosses, I want you to know that you can rest easy, because I know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that it wasn’t me. It was you.

You can pretend the blame rests on me, because that’s easier than addressing the harder issue. I’m the one in the wrong because I didn’t communicate my qualms so easily as you did. Never mind that you were the one who shut down those lines of communication in the first place. You can ignore the double standards you set up, the atmosphere that your arbitrary policies and passive-aggressive emails created. Just focus on how I messed up. Life is easier when you assume someone needed to be let go because they weren’t an asset. At best, they weren’t the right one. Your perfect fit. We’ll ignore the part where a “perfect fit” is someone who sits with and ignores injustices, or the type of person that no one wants to be or be around.

And you’re right: maybe there was more I could do. Maybe I could’ve found new ways of communicating. Maybe I could’ve been the one to make you realize where you were going wrong and help you try to fix it. Maybe I was too wrapped up in my own very hard life challenges that were going on (that you didn’t seem to care about) to really see things for what they were. But I was exhausted. Emotionally and mentally and physically exhausted. You pass a point in a toxic situation and there’s no turning back. In a weird way, you did me a huge favor. And in a weird way, I should be thanking you.

But I hope, despite all of this, we can remain civil. As much as you have hurt me, I can’t burn that bridge just yet. In some messed up, co-dependent way, I still need you. There are people who might call you, asking about me as a person. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum, since I know how awkward of a situation that must be – new administration talking with old – but it’s bound to happen.

I wish only the best for you.

Maybe someday you’ll realize the error of your ways. Maybe someday you’ll come around and change how you act and interact. Maybe you’ll recognize that we’re all flawed human beings who need an extra moment of understanding before reacting. Maybe you’ll actually practice that “culture” that you’re always preaching. Or maybe you’ll just find that “perfect fit”, someone who is completely okay with a lack of support or respect or communication. Someone who will nearly kill themselves to fulfill those unrealistic expectations you have. Someone who will never try to challenge or question you. And you can sit back in your meeting room, office coffee warming your palms, and congratulate yourself and finally, finally finding that right someone for your company.

But Management, that person is not me.

Best regards,
Your now happy and much more confident ex-employee