Why I had to quit my boss.

I quit my job 4 weeks ago. That’s what I tell people, but a more accurate statement would be, “I quit my Boss”. I had fantasized about this like anyone when they have their moment of self righteous indignation in the workplace, so I didn’t actually think I’d let go without a solid reason or something securely lined up. But the standard reasons for staying put always prevailed. Fear, loyalty, and stability all held a stubborn grip and prevented me from loosening the strings of my safety net and taking the leap. Meanwhile, the workplace I had once thrived in, became a place that made me feel confined and emotionally drained.

I have had a few noteworthy experiences in my life; lots of travel, I hitchhiked in Ecuador, I climbed to the top of Machu Picchu; and some other mountain in Venezuela that I can’t remember the name of. I’ve been stuck at roadblocks and in the mud off a highway in Peru after crossing the border on the day of a national road riot. I’ve spent a week sleeping in a hammock in Colombia. I learned a whole other language; I sold almost everything I owned and left the country (twice). I married at 23 because my boyfriend needed a green card; delivered a 10 pound baby 4 years later, and have so far raised a clever and wonderful boy. And even though just this year I finally made it across the threshold of denial and guilt about my desire for a divorce, I can say that at least I made it 15 years as a married woman. Through all this I have been armed with mainly my instincts, my inner voice, my nerve, my wonder, my curiosity and my fear. I’ve asked complete strangers for directions, or help. I’ve had to get lost; get panicked; get or yelled at for not being dressed properly in certain places; sit down and give up, (maybe panic) for a few minutes then keep looking for whatever I had set out to find in the first place. All of these experiences were scary, rewarding in some way, and always felt good afterwards. But nothing has ever felt quite as empowering as quitting. I didn’t “leave”, or find another job. I QUIT, and haven’t looked back except to wonder how I managed to stay so long.

For the record, my job was not a “career”; I’m not a “professional”. Not an executive; or even an underling of an executive. I’m not in the middle of some corporate ladder climb; I don’t work 65 hours a week and with no vacations, I wasn’t tired of the “rat race”, or the commute. I have a JOB. I work retail. And for a long time that job provided stability, satisfaction, and some great times. I was a “manager” by title at a rental / retail establishment of vintage clothing and costumes. I dressed people in period appropriate attire for plays, photoshoots, parties, etc. It’s a hands on kinda place and I became a great dressing room therapist. Ever try to convince a 40-something year old woman that her arms look great in a sleeveless 1920’s dress? Never mind; it doesn’t matter. The job itself does not matter. The reasons for walking away do. In my case, my job and boss often felt like one entity. The way I felt about her and and being at work were inextricably linked; which is why this event has pushed me to try to examine what made me stay so long. Why were the very aspects that I found so appealing about my boss/ job the same things that ended up impacting me so negatively to the point of quitting? I didn’t just quit a job, I quit a person.

I had been there for 13 years. If you discount the 2 years I took off because I had a baby. But I went back; and stayed for another 8 years. I’m still not sure where those 8 years went. I know time passed, but it’s hard to see growth. My son grew; my hair grew, for a while I went back to school, dropped out out again, we climbed out of debt, my marriage deteriorated, we moved to a bigger place, made friends. Things happened, but it’s hard not to look back now and admit that my feet were stuck in cement.

It was a creative job; not exactly what I had set out to do with my life, but it fell into a category that I found un-conventional and appealing. I loved my co-workers, it payed well, and most importantly, I had become very good at it.

My first weeks and months there I was able to see my boss’s good points. She was outgoing, enthusiastic, sarcastic, enjoyed socializing off work hours; and took delight in disparaging obnoxious customers. She didn’t buy into “the customer is always right” philosophy. To her, anyone being an asshole is wrong no matter how much they are spending. I very much agreed with this philosophy. I remember thinking to myself that she was on our team; pro-worker, this may in part have been true, but a lot of it was ego.

It was a “family” like environment. The idea that we were so close we could fight was something she loved to encourage. This had a certain appeal for a while, but it wears off when you realize that fighting is a terrible waste of energy and that most work problems can be solved by a simple conversation. Basically, what had started as weird, or quirky behavior quickly evolved into erratic fits of anger over the way and item was placed in a bag, or an overlooked task.

My boss was not ensconced in some office on the other side of the the building, or on another floor. You didn’t have to make an appointment to see her. She was right there with us, behind the counter, in “the trenches” was the term she liked to use. There were no boundaries; and sometimes it felt refreshing to work in a place like that. A place where we could be real, and admit the shitty things happening in our lives that may throw us off balance. We could vent, and adjust and not always be ON. This also pervaded the norms of what is expected between employee and boss. She could be a good listener; but the cost of letting her in could be high. It could mean subjecting oneself to judgment, accusations, and unsolicited advice. It could also mean she thinks we need a few days off. One of the ways she would often assert her authority would be to leverage our work hours against us. It was a form of punishment. She felt entitled to contact outside of work for whatever reason. I realize this is common in the age of cell phones; however it is not common to receive messages containing furious ranting about essentially nothing of consequence. If I call her back without listening to the message first, I risk being yelled at and hung up on. Instructions are the holy grail. If you can’t follow instructions, however illogical or unreasonable they are; or however inconvenient they are to obey on your day off; no matter; instructions must be followed. You play HER game; and that’s what it is to work with a manipulative narcissist. You have to always be on guard, and be able to improvise.

For so long I decided that this was the cost of working for such an unusual woman. I got swept up in her hamster wheel of irrational thought, and even played an active role in enabling her workplace conduct. I’d often laugh off her actions or guilt her into apologizing to a co-worker she had deeply insulted. Not just because I thought she should, but because I didn’t want them to go. I didn’t want to be the last woman standing so to speak, so I continued to manage and buffer her behavior. The last few years I began to recognize it was simply taking up too much mental energy to always be on guard like that. I saw that she was a person that needed constant validation, recognition and was addicted to being “right” all the time.

I was never in the habit of getting into long drawn out stories about my boss. Most people think they work (or have worked) for someone crazy. Some people you just have to experience for yourself; in all their glory and madness. Its why I cut this essay in half. The stories, and backstories that I have filed away in my memory would make up the evidence justifying my sudden departure. But it would also be a very boring “he said she said” gossip piece.

I’ve never thought of (or called) anyone a manipulative narcissist. It’s only over the last few years that I’ve even began to really see her as that. I had to read up on it, just to make sure-as if my instincts were not enough to tell me. It’s a serious allegation. And to be fair, she did some generous things for me and my co-workers in the 13 years that I knew her. I have a son, so the flexibility she granted me with hours definitely sustained my tolerance. She’d share leftovers, old magazines, and taught me how to play chess. When you’re on the receiving end of a boss who treats you like a niece or daughter; (albeit dysfunctional) you feel grateful, not manipulated by someone keeping a scorecard. But being a narcissist or manipulative doesn’t make a person terrible, it just makes them impossible to be in any kind of relationship with; familial, friendly, professional or otherwise.

By quitting my job I broke off one of the longest and most c0-dependent relationships in my life. I quit the conflict she stirred up, the urgency of her requests, the feeling of panic that ran through me when me or my son took ill and I was “badly needed”. I quit the burden of navigating her moods, and steering her into a calm direction. I quit ALL adverse side effects of having her in my life. But I also quit her awesome stories about all her misadventures in her weird long life, I quit laughing so hard I’d cry, (at least at work). I quit long slow days playing chess. I quit sharing recipes, birthdays and TV shows. Essentially I broke up with her.

This began as a journal entry. I had not intended it to be about HER. It was supposed to be about quitting, and the power of that act when we feel powerless. But it’s impossible for me to not write about her. No one else except my husband and son have had quite as much of an impact on my adult life. She’s not just some crazy boss, she’s a figure that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully remove from my conscience.

It didn’t take much; (well 13 years is a bit much) she had a meltdown one morning, and I just knew that was it. I was overwhelmed. First I cried, then I got silent, then angry; then I walked out and never went back. She didn’t just lose an employee, she lost a friend. It’s been 5 weeks now, and I will admit (reluctantly) that I miss her in some ways. I don’t dwell on it because it’s normal for people to miss what is now not there, even if it was harmful.

The other day an acquaintance said to me, “Everyone wants to quit their job!” I think this may be true, but not because everyone hates their jobs. I didn’t hate my job or my boss. I didn’t complain about my job, yet “congratulations” seemed to be the most natural reaction from people. You don’t have to hate something to be done with it. You just have to recognize when it has run its course or is having a negative impact in your life. It just takes one incisive moment to reject a corrosive influence. What worked for me at 25, was not working for me at 38.

Quitting or moving on from a job is something people really respond to because most people want to do the same in some area of their life. Most of us will spend at least a few years (if not many) here and there, standing at the edge of whatever proverbial cliff that is happening in our life just dying to jump off; but we want to have our parachutes and contingency plans in place first. There really is no such thing.

When we feel cornered, we search for safety. We cower and cling to the cliff for a little while longer. It feels impossible to see or assemble a way out. At least once you jump, you can see the way down.