** This is long. And not my best writing. I promised a post updating about my experience over this past year. This is the best I can do.**
It's been almost a month now that I've been trying to figure out how to tell the story of what happened with my job situation in the last year, specifically the culmination of my time with my former employer (we will call it the foundation). The words seem to come to me in starts and stops - but never when I'm able to sit and write out the whole story. I feel a little bit like a 2 liter bottle of coke - I've been on a ride for the last year where I tried to hold on the best I could, but I was repeatedly picked up and shaken to the point of wanting to explode. Then, I'd be set down and left alone to do my job for just long enough that the bubbles would subside, until, again, I would experience a shake up. Now, I'm trying to gently pry the lid off to share my experience, but it feels like it's impossible to crack the top without creating a mess. As I alluded to in my post a few weeks ago, not wanting to create a mess is what has kept me quiet on this blog for so long, and I'm done with that. So here we go.
Ryan and I were recently talking about another situation in my life that I'm currently processing and he made the point that rarely is a situation black and white where there is one side that is 100% right and another side that is 100% wrong. This story that I have to tell is a great example of this... The foundation has an amazing mission and I hope it will continue for many years. It was this mission that, when they offered me a part time position (at a fairly low hourly rate) I was willing to sacrifice my stable, full time, flexible, fully benefited, salaried job at AAFMAA to pursue helping a community that I was excited to serve. I knew that it would be a financial sacrifice for my family, but I had Ryan's full support in that regard. He had reservations about the possible emotional toll of the job, but, as always, he supported me and encouraged me to follow my heart.
It wasn't too long after I started at the foundation that I realized that his concerns about the emotional toll were not only because of the people I would be serving, but actually more because of what he had intuited from his interactions with the person I would be working for. I was not prepared for the level of anxiety and defensiveness that seemed to permeate so many interactions with her. Coming from a corporate background, I was used to open communication and the freedom to advocate for myself and my coworkers. I was absolutely unprepared for the different culture in the non-profit space. It was like I was just supposed to be so grateful to be working there that I would take whatever was given to me and say "thank you". My failure to do so, and my belief that candid feedback makes us all better, got me labeled as a bad egg early on. From there, it was just a slow, painful journey to the end.
When I requested mileage reimbursement for programs that required me to drive long distances, I was told that I didn't understand the potential implications of my request, and that people could potentially lose their jobs because I was asking for compensation.
Occasionally messages would be sent to all on Slack with directives that caused me to question if I was doing my job appropriately, or not. When I requested a little more clarity when such messages were sent, so I could know if I was doing something that needed to change, the reaction I received indicated that they were offended I would ask! It was as if I was asking to see the personnel files of each of my teammates.
A few months later, when it came time for my 6 month review, I tried to honestly approach the questionnaire that had been sent to me in preparation for the meeting and give candid feedback. This was a mistake. I shared that words of affirmation are very meaningful for me and that I would really appreciate a positive affirmation when I did something well. I received a stone faced response, where I was told that my management was already pushed to her limit and that she could not, or would not, give me any additional positive feedback. I was shocked. As she realized how shocked I was, a verbal avalanche ensued. From that point on, I spoke 20% of the words while the remaining 80% were spoken by my boss. I started to shut down at the number of words that were being thrown at me. I tearfully requested that we end the call as I couldn't respond at that time to all the things that were being said. She responded by pushing me to answer. I requested again to end the call, with the same response. The third time that I requested, she agreed. Ryan came home to find me sobbing. I was having a hard time understanding how a simple request had gone so wrong. His immediate response was that I should quit. He had seen me pouring my heart and soul into the mission - determined to build a thriving support system for the SOF spouses at Fort Bragg. In the end, I told him I couldn't quit. I honestly couldn't imagine walking away from the women we were impacting. He supported me, but remained very worried.
A few weeks later we scheduled a follow up call where a third party "mediator" was present. It was at this point I started to realize how sick the foundation was from an organizational standpoint. There was no room for honest checks and balances because of the fraught relationship of the people in charge. And there was no opportunity for an unbiased 3rd party - because no one was willing to speak up for what was right at what could be the cost of their job. The information that was known about me from previous personality assessments I had done, was actually weaponized against me in these meetings - to show that I was wrong while the other party was right.
I saw this unhealthy dynamic repeatedly. When I got on the plane to fly home from my time helping run a program in November, I felt emotionally empty. It took me a while to process why. I anticipated the toll that the role I needed to play would take. But what I had not anticipated, was the anxiety that permeated the program. To the point others picked up on it and asked why my teammates and I were so obviously anxious, especially when our leader was present. It felt like a contest to see who could be the best little helper. When I tried to set healthy boundaries with my time or efforts I looked like a slacker or missed out on important interactions - especially because none of my other teammates were willing to risk losing the approval of our leader by setting similar boundaries. I won't even get into the absolutely laughable idea that a schedule was given to us that kept us neatly to 40 hours a week, to prevent anyone from working overtime, despite the fact that we each easily worked 12 - 14 hour days the entire time we were there. But, again, I knew better than to bring it up. I figured if my questions about mileage reimbursement were offensive, I couldn't imagine the reaction when I pointed out the ethics issues with knowingly letting employees work overtime without compensation.
So, how did it all end? Again, through all of this I was trying to swallow my ego and pride because I loved the people we were helping. But the final breaking point was when I realized that they were most likely trying to get rid of me. I made the decision not to attend a leadership summit that was held the week after Thanksgiving. The timing was too hard for my family given that I had just returned from my previous trip 10 days prior. When the summit was over, I received two phone calls. One to let me know that someone else would be facilitating all events over in Fayetteville (effectively cutting my job by about half), and another to let me know that they were capping the hours I could work per week at approximately 30% less than what I was allowed the previous year. After all that work and effort to build the program I was so hurt that these decisions were made with no warning and no discussion. I sent an email pushing back, and received a multi-page explanation that was clearly based on covering their ass, and manipulating me into seeing their point of view. I happened to be at lunch with a dear friend, who is is a mental health expert, when the email came through. Her reaction when I read it to her confirmed everything that I needed to know. It was time for me to move on.
So, where am I now as I try to process all of this. I think one of the things that hurts the most, is that I was often reminded while I worked there, that what mattered most was the SOF community we were serving. Yet this organization had no trouble offering me a position that took me (a current, active duty, SOF spouse) out of a stable career, then pulling back on what I was promised, with no remorse.
The first few days after I sent my resignation were very sad. It was the realization that I had given my loyalty and trust to people who didn't deserve or honor it. Also, the knowledge that there was nothing I could do to control the narrative that was told in my absence. But since those days, I have grown into an overwhelming sense of peace. I won't allow myself to be gaslit into thinking that I'm a bad or selfish person for asking questions and requesting fair compensation and reimbursement. I won't sacrifice time watching my kid's play in soccer tournaments or singing in shows in order to gain a kind of social collateral in an organization that plays it's employees off against one another. I will miss the women I was able to serve and the message of self care I was able to share. But I will never regret prioritizing my mental health and my time with my family.
