What it Was Like to be Fired
In a word: not fun.
The moment I realized I was not getting a promotion — and instead was getting fired — will forever be etched in my brain.
The experience of getting fired is never exactly how you see it playing out in your head. For me, there was no Jerry Maguire outburst (even if I have often thought about it both as an employee and a leadership consultant) and certainly no Eduardo Saverin smashing of the laptop at Mark Zuckerberg’s desk. I could have raged and tried to steal clients in my wake. Or I could have thrown my computer against a wall (but that would have been bad for me since it was my brand new MacBook Pro).
It happened on a beautiful May day in New York City. And despite the foot injury I was still nursing in preparation for my first marathon just a month away, the day was full of possibilities. The feeling of getting fired is not something that goes away. I remember the room. I remember the feeling. I remember taking the elevator down for the last time.
When the Senior VP tapped me on the shoulder for an end-of-the-day conversation, I absolutely positively though I was about to get a promotion. I was excited to have the conversation. And as I walked with her to a meeting room, it dawned on me: This was not going to be a promotion. I was going to get fired when I walked into that room.
As I stood in the lobby of our office building in the Flatiron District in the big city, I held back my tears. It was in that moment the first of what would be dozens of texts began to stream in from my team. It was in those messages from my collegues, my friends, I knew I had left my mark.
I walked the block-and-a-half to the subway to go home to drop off my bag. Ironically enough, that evening I had tickets to what turned out to be an amazing show on Broadway. Usually on the train I read but in my frightened state about what my future would hold and how I would pay my rent, I couldn't focus on words.
So I stood on my train holding the cold, germ-covered metal pole with sweat from thousands of other New Yorkers; stunned. I never in my life imagined that I would be fired.
Sure, I've lost two elections. But I had been given the dreaded pink slip, which ironically is a sterile white piece of paper with room for two signatures.
By the time I arrived home, still stunned, my roommate had made me tea to help calm my nerves. I walked into the hallway, dropped off my bag and entered the kitchen. He asked me what had happened to cause the firing. And as I began to talk, I lost it. The tears finally came. We sat on the couch, drinking tea while I cried. And it was cathartic. I let it out. My unhappiness. My anger. My shock. And my worry about the worry and the overwhelming fear about the future.
But I had a show to go to and I wasn’t about to miss it, so I changed, put on a happy face and headed back out to that same subway. While walking, I responded to as many of the friendly texts from my now-former team as I could while walking.
If you’re curious, the name of the show was Gore Vidal’s “The Best Man,” starring James Earl Jones, Candice Bergen, Eric McCormack, and John Larroquette. Luckily, I was able to enjoy the amazing cast for the two hours and not think about the current state of my life.
After the show, I went to Shake Shack with my friend Vikash who had attended the show with me and his conversation and company was just what I needed. The time with a trusted friend and mentor in the city the never sleeps where anything is possible. Of course, the chocolate and peanut butter shake helped quite a bit!
As we sat there conversing about my future Vikash was more than excited. He was excited because he knew I had wanted more time to do the things I am passionate about: writing, speaking, photography, and politics.
When I woke up next day, only an hour later than normal, I got right to work. I started writing again. In fact, the week after being let go, I had a blog post up each day of the week. I can’t remember the last time that had happened. I worked on building online partnerships. I painted. And I took my camera out to capture the city. I even wrote a movie short script for a friend. Oh, and I had the time to pitch my novel to agents. I also found time to relax and breathe.
It only took me 12 hours to take the events from the afternoon of May 2 and turn them into something positive. Even all these years later, I still miss the team I was so privileged to coach and work with but I am so thankful for the experience I had over those 13 months at Vaynermedia. I constantly remind myself that in the end, it is the journey. It is the experiences. It is the people that matter in my life. Not the job. Not the name on the paycheck. It is the people that come in and touch my heart.
There is a line in the West Wing that I go to when I think about this experience:
“That wasn’t the measure of the experience. It’s just the way it ended.”
At the time, I was worried about where the next paycheck would come from or if it would ever come. (For the record, it began again a few months later.)
That job? Working for a guy I had lived down the street from 20 years prior in a small town in Iowa. Life is serendipitous that way and through getting fired, I learned to embrace that gray area in life. You never know what is going to happen. All you can do — all you can ever do — is live your life to the fullest and give and share love and compassion to everyone along the way and the rest will take care of itself.