On October 13th, USA Today published an article entitled “Record-Breaking 4.3 Million Americans quit their jobs in August, new data shows.” And I’ll tell you something that’s probably not so secret… I know why, because I am one of those Americans. Although I didn’t leave my job in August 2021, I left it in September 2020.
It still grieves me to be honest, and this post will probably be more therapeutic for me than it may be educational for you. But hear me out. The company will remain nameless, and I won’t go into every specific detail that lead to such a hard decision for me and my family. But I will set the stage which will hopefully help you understand why these decisions are not made lightly by families and can honestly be very heartbreaking.
I started with the company when I was 24 in their records department and worked my way up the ranks to a claims adjuster. The company is an insurance company and I was drawn to the responsibility and challenge of being a claims adjuster. When I finally got the position after applying twice previously, I felt like I was on my way to big things. I was salaried (finally), making a livable wage and honestly doing much better than peers my age. The job was everything I envisioned. It challenged me every day, there was always something new and I got the satisfaction of feeling like I was doing the right thing by helping people. I had my hand in both legal and medical circles which taught me about the world in ways I would have never had access to in other types of industries. Plus, the company offered some amazing benefits. Not only was my health insurance great, but I received a substantial bonus every quarter, on top of fun team outings, swag, paid volunteer time, and a host of other awesome opportunities that made me feel valued and appreciated. After all, this was one of the top employers year after year according to the Denver Post.
After I had my first son, I was so excited to return back to work from maternity leave. I never cried dropping him off at daycare and I felt like I was rocking the working mom persona. For the second time, I felt like I’d made it, made something of myself and I had the life I wanted. In my marriage, I was the breadwinner and carried the insurance benefits for our family. That how it was for me growing up, so it just made sense that this is what was meant to be.
The cracks started to show a few months after my son was born, with my boss ready to do my performance evaluation before I was even back from maternity leave. She’d encouraged me to bring my son in, show him off, and everyone “oohh’ed” and “aww’ed” over him. But my performance was subpar and marginal… which she explained she understood given my difficult pregnancy, but that she was confident I’d turn it around once I was back. “sure!” I thought. “Of course it was just a rough 9 months, and everything will go back to normal.” But being a mom and working full time was hard- and there were days I had to leave early for a sick kiddo, and had to make accommodations to work from home if daycare was closed. I began to subtly feel like I was being closely watched. My boss would frequently as about my son, almost to the point of it being annoying. It felt like she was just asking because she had nothing else to say to me, and frankly, work was where I got away from him. Yes, he was my world, but I was there to do my job.
Fast forward to my 2nd pregnancy which was surprisingly easy. I still felt like I was performing at a decent level and I even applied for a few different positions while I was pregnant. I still felt confident and secure even though at this point in my career, my boss was not my favorite person and in my head I was trying to find ways I could get out from under her and get with a different manager. The thing was, my boss was a 40-year old single woman who hadn’t the first inkling of what “work-life” balance meant. While the company promoted it and she had to follow the rules (which she did to a T), she herself struggled with that balance- sending emails late at night, and micromanaging her employees to death. At one point, our company went through a major realignment- in which many people (including myself) got new bosses (which is how I got stuck under her). Her former employees (anonymously) noted that the best part about the realignment was not being under her anymore. This woman had a reputation for being a stickler for the rules, a micromanager, and rumors swirled that she did not support working mothers. I was about to learn that in a slow, painful process that lead to drastic life changes in terms of my career and goals.
After Bowen was born, I’d met my boss for coffee. I’d spent the last 12 weeks in and out of the hospital with him and I had to tell her that I was facing more time away for scopes, appointments and surgery. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember every part of that conversation- but I do remember her trying to be empathetic, and letting me know she supported me in what I needed to do. When the calendar turned from 2019 to 2020, I was quickly “talked to” about a month into the new year about my time away. I remember her saying that she understood I had been busy with appointments, but I was spending too much time logged off the phones and unavailable for customers. I reminded her I was still breastfeeding, so I was legally entitled to an hour lunch, and 3 sessions away to pump for him, at no more than 1/2 hour each. So yes, I was away a lot, but I had a medically fragile baby at home and I was doing my best to be as available as possible. She focused on my phone availability for all customers and said that I wasn’t available enough. Even though my own customers were able to reach me. Those talks became more frequent- this was wrong, that was wrong… I didn’t say this right, that email sounded aggressive… I needed to work on my “soft skills”. Her intangible and arbitrary standards weren’t being met, despite my tangible and measurable numbers being adequate. I’ll never forget her telling me that “it didn’t matter if survey scores were high, if I wasn’t having quality, meaningful and compassionate conversations, than my scores weren’t good enough for her.” If someone can explain that one to me, I’ll be forever grateful!
I remember in June deciding I wanted to see about stepping down to a different position. I’d been working with my boss and HR and at that time, my boss had told me she thought it was a good idea I step down, since I wasn’t able to keep up with my work. And while I get that it made sense… its not what I wanted. I was terrified of losing my salary, and I didn’t know how our family could take such a large pay cut. Family-wise, it didn’t seem like it made sense. Plus, I was still going to need time away- working 40 hours was too much. HR told me I could work 30 hours and keep my benefits, but my standards wouldn’t change. The metrics I had to meet would be the same. Well, that didn’t make sense either. I felt let down by HR and by my boss. Yes, I was throwing in the towel in a way but I wanted to keep my claims adjuster job. All I’d really wanted was a new manager. A fresh start. I’d worked with HR for months trying to make this happen. I’d talked to peers and other managers. Everyone agreed I needed to get out from under her, but no one went to bat for me. I was trying to bat for myself, digging my grave deeper and deeper. I’d even written an email to the VP of HR citing numerous statistics about working mothers and the burden caregivers face when caring for a family member. Her email back to me (after she “looked into” my allegations against my boss) expressed sorrow for my position, but ultimately, she said that business is business and it must go on- maybe a new job within the company was best. When a customer service position came up in July, I didn’t apply. In August my boss and HR told me that if I didn’t bring up my stats, they’d be writing me up. At one point, I’d confided this to a close co-worker, who was a senior claims adjuster. She told me she had never met her own goals of the same metric but had received a promotion to a senior adjuster even though I’d been an adjuster for longer. About 3 weeks after the write-up discussion with HR, I gave my notice. In that meeting, my boss told me they would pay me for my 2 weeks, but my last day was that day. They sent a courier to pick up my equipment and it was over.
My 8 years of hard work, of friendships, camaraderie, passion and purpose all came to an end in September 2020. In the midst of a pandemic, and my lowest point to that date professionally, I was faced with great, shuddering loss. Looking back, I recognize there were things I could have done better. My attitude wasn’t good, and I cried at almost every meeting- good or bad- with my boss. She probably didn’t know what to do with me either, and doing an “easier” job was her only solution. But I deserved more compassion. I deserved better treatment, going back years before Bowen was born. She had a poor reputation for supporting her employees. While I was not removed from my own faults, why weren’t hers being addressed? Why was I the one taking the fall for trying to stand up for the wrongs in this supposed “top workplace”? When COVID-19 hit, employees (especially moms) were begging HR to make policy changes. I’d left before I saw any of those changes come to fruition.
At the end of the day, FMLA didn’t protect me, co-workers or those in positions of power didn’t help me and a company I’d lived and breathed for, cut their losses and said “best of luck”. I had no recourse for my bosses treatment of me, even though 4 other employees who had small children had either quit or been fired by her in 2 years while those without children were promoted. And now, I barely keep in touch with many of those who I thought were close friends. In one breath, I miss it every day and I feel an acute sense of loss, even a year later. I don’t have a professional identity anymore and my sense of purpose is primarily wrapped up in my care of my family and supporting my kids. I often waffle between forgiveness and bitterness. I still feel I am owed something, and that my voice was never heard by those that needed to hear it. After I’d left, I wrote a lengthy email to the CEO, but they must have blocked my email address because it bounced back.
Part of that chip on my shoulder is what drove me to begin this blog. I can’t be the only parent out there with a medically complex kiddo in this type of situation. But I am the only one I’ve met (yet). The fact of the matter is, The droves of workers leaving is because of what I experienced. According to an economist interviewed for that USA Today article I referenced at the beginning, “There is no labor shortage. There’s a child care shortage, a living-wage shortage, a hazard pay shortage, a paid sick leave shortage and a healthcare shortage.” People are realizing there is more to life than a 40 hour work week. Life is about more than “the grind” and honestly, if enough of us demand it, we don’t have to do it. There is a lesson to be taught to future generations. Are we raising them to grow up, grind and die? Or are we raising them to smell the flowers, gaze at the stars, smile at strangers and fix what we have broken? I hope that’s our goal, for what kind of world are we making for them, if not a better one? It feels frustrating that now it is affecting working fathers too, people are paying attention. The USA Today article highlighted what women have suffered for years and what my story barely touches on. We are failing as a society to recognize the importance of health, wellness and happiness first, before work and money and capitalism.
I’ll leave you with one final thought- Steve Jobs said “Your work is going to to fill a large part of your life and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.” So when you’re left in a place of questioning your worth, the guilt of not doing anything about it will outweigh the fear of the jump.
Somewhere In Between 