2013 - A Year in Review

Memories of January 29^th are still vivid in my mind. The sound of work boots on berber as security guards marched the office floor. The sound of tears as coworkers cried at the sight of friends being carried away. And the sound of my name being called as they came for me too.

I mustered as much dignity as I could, stood, smoothed my dress, walked past the guard and toward the elevator. Keep it together. Just keep breathing. Don’t make eye contact. When I arrived at the elevator, another security guard was waiting, holding the door. Wow. This mess is well orchestrated. Keep it together. You’re almost there. As I entered the elevator, both guards entered behind me. Two security guards? What do they think I’m going to do? As one guard reached for the ground floor button, I quickly punched it myself. Ha! Score one for me.

At ground floor, the guard directed me to conference room B, which was “on your left.” I’ve worked here 15 years. I think I know where to find conference room B. Still holding my head high, grinding my teeth for composure, I walked into conference room B and sat at the long table made of fake wood veneer. My guard sat behind me. The HR person sat in front. Keep it together. But, I didn’t quite manage. In the semi-private space of conference room B, it was impossible to maintain all composure, and I shed the first of many tears to come. I murmured a couple of words, which were not lady-like. Oh, not to the guard or HR person, but to myself. I soaked up the tears with generic, scratchy tissues, which were kindly provided in anticipation of this moment. Get it together! This can’t really be happening.

When all protocol of notice was complete, my guard escorted me to the back door. When he opened the door for me, I paused for a moment and turned to thank him. No words came from my lips. Instead, I turned, severance papers in hand, and walked through the doors. As the door clicked a sharp lock behind me, I stood on the cold sidewalk in bewilderment. Did that really just happen? I looked at my watch. Seven minutes. After 15 years of employment, the guards had removed me from my office, churned me through conference room B and locked me outside in seven minutes. Well done, guards.

As I started the walk to my car, the old Adam Sandler song played through my head, walk of shame, walk of shame. I looked around and noticed two others walking to their cars, paperwork in hand. Keep it together. Just get home. I threw my belongings in the car, and slammed the door- hard. Just get home. As I drove toward the gate, which was locked that day in anticipation of – retaliation? – I saw a familiar face in the guard shack. As our eyes locked, I lost what was left of professional composure. Why did it have to be a family member in the guard shack? I almost made it out in one piece. We chatted for a few minutes. I cried. He looked sad, and asked if I was okay to drive. I assured him I would be fine.

And you know what? I am. The first few weeks were difficult, no doubt. Losing a job sucks.

But I’ve learned a lot of great lessons this year. I’ve reclaimed time with my family. I’ve learned to appreciate and accept the support of my husband. I’ve stepped up to my potential and found inner strength. I’ve launched a successful consulting business. I’ve reconnected with my local community. And I’ve realized what a positive difference I can make by sharing my experiences and journey.

So, here’s to you, 2013. The best worst year I’ve ever had!