I didn’t get fired. I got seen.

Sometimes being seen is more powerful than being saved.

A tribute to the unsung heroes of HR

I remember driving to work. The knot in my stomach at the very thought of going would, more days than not, force me to pull over so I could be sick. I was young, didn’t know how to advocate for myself, I just knew I needed the job. 

I should have known better than to take this job. When I asked the director of the department to tell me about the culture, he looked at me and said, “I hate that question. It’s such bullshit.” That should have told me everything I needed to know. But it was a pretty shiny job with a pretty shiny paycheck, and I had gotten used to the finer things in life, like food and shelter. 

I can’t even remember where it all started to go wrong. If I’m honest with myself, I’m sure it was day one. I was naïve and didn’t take the silent assaults as malicious. I didn’t even realize they were making me invisible until I almost couldn’t recognize myself. 

Then it happened. 

My boss called me into her office, and sitting next to her was HR. For a person who always considered herself an overachiever, who was known for getting along with everyone, how did it come to this? I didn’t get fired, but I did receive a written warning. I did my walk of shame back to my desk, still feeling the heat that flushed over my entire body the moment I walked into her office. 

But something else happened that day. I was seen, not by my boss, but by HR. 

The lady from HR called me in to meet with her because something felt off in that meeting. I went in, not sure what to expect, but what I found was a soft place to land. I told her everything that had been going on. I saw the look on her face, her compassion. I also saw her trying to hide her anger. She knew my rights better than I did. She knew how they were treating me wasn’t fair. She was visibly appalled at some of my examples. She said she would dig deeper. 

The problem was, I was already done.

Beaten down to just the shell of my former self, I had nothing left to give. I went back to work, tried to claw my way back, but realized once you’re in a hole, there’s no way out, especially when they keep shoveling more on top of you. 

I don’t remember what the final straw was, but I remember it happened. Without a "Plan B" in sight, with no new job prospects and minimal savings, I quit. 

My emotions were on a pendulum from “I’m free” to “Oh dear God, what have I done?” 

The lady from HR reached out to me a day or two later to check in. I’ll never forget her words: “I can’t believe how happy you sound.” 

She was right. I was happy. 

The knot was gone. I wasn’t sick to my stomach. I could just sit in the feeling of relief. 

I don’t know what all went into her notes. I just know I applied for unemployment and was approved. 

Looking back, her compassion wasn’t just a lifeline to me; it was a saving grace for that company. Having since been in HR, I know that what that company did to me was wrong, and their culture left them vulnerable to significant risk. 

I will always be grateful to her. She gave me my voice back and helped me heal and rebuild from the toxic world I had been living in. 

She was uniquely positioned to make or break the situation.