Taking Risks: Lessons Learned from a Failing Job

The last time I took a risk? Technically I take risks everyday I get into my vehicle. Every time I go into an establishment. Is it a life or death risk? Most of the time no. Sometimes the risk is more to my pocketbook, or my peace of mind.

As far as major risks, one of the more recent ones would have been quitting my job at the bank to try my hand at being a domestic violence advocate. I didn’t work out as intended. I found out I wasn’t a very good advocate and sometimes things work out how they are meant to.

Things were stagnant at the bank, and I knew there were things I didn’t like about it. Mostly it was the insane pressure we were under to upsell to our customers. This wasn’t conducive to real customer service, which I prided myself on. As an institution, we patted ourselves on the bank for not needing a bailout during the housing crisis, only to be hit by a crisis of our own design. The fake account scandal. I am not naming the institution but I am sure you could figure it out if you wanted to.

I got out pre-scandal but was not surprised when it hit. I cashed in my 401k before it took the hit and used it as a down payment on my car. The risk was walking away from a job I know I could do for a job I had no experience in. I had practical experience as someone that experienced domestic violence first hand, but not as an advocate. I didn’t have the bureaucracy experience, the know how of navigating social nets and DSHS, and other institutions.

I was trained to be agreeable and not push the envelope from my childhood as a middle child and a shy girl that had trouble making friends. I wasn’t combative enough, or aggressive enough to really do much for my clients. The organization, which I won’t name, was by far the most toxic workplace I had ever been in. It made me miss the camaraderie of the bank. Sadly, the bank was the last job where I felt like I had a group of people I could enjoy spending time with outside of work. I haven’t found that since.

I ended up getting fired as an advocate. I actually saw a therapist a few times before that, and she said I needed to quit my job, that it was not mentally good for me. Triggering my past experiences and also experiencing workplace bullying from the boss on a daily basis was taking a toll. The irony of being bullied at a domestic violence advocacy center is not lost on me. Being fired was the best outcome as I couldn’t effectively help myself let alone anyone else.

My only regret was not quitting sooner. The bully forced a hug on me and said some b.s. about me being all right and being okay. I was a single mother of a young child who got no child support at the time. It was extremely scary being unemployed. Her hug was a forced thing, I recoiled and stiffened, and I did not consent to it. It was awkward and awful, and was the final insult. I am sure it was a control thing, a final hah, I determine your fate and you suck.

She eroded any confidence I had daily with disparaging remarks and public humiliations by singling me out at meetings and disparaging my work in front of my co workers. She didn’t allow me to learn anything, because she told me repeatedly that she didn’t trust my judgment which made me doubt myself, and not believe in my own judgment.

I still catch myself doubting how I think and my rationale because she would tell me daily how I didn’t think like a normal person and that my decision making was faulty. I think she wanted to get rid of me to pay for new windows.

I took a risk, it didn’t pan out, but now I know what I don’t want to do. I was also heavily encouraged to donate a part of my paycheck back to the organization, which was basically volunteering for a smaller paycheck. I wasn’t wealthy, or well to do. What a garbage organization!

I got discouraged by the sheer amount of grift it enabled as well. So many hotel stays for people who chose to use it for drugs and to invite their abusers to stay with them. I can’t think of anyone we actually helped except maybe some of the kids during the holidays.

I ended up getting a better paying job by hitting the pavement daily. I applied everywhere and went to the unemployment office every single day to work on my resume. It was hard work finding work. Luckily, I had a lot of people from the bank where I worked and at previous jobs I was on good terms with that helped. Needless to say, I didn’t use the advocacy place for anything, but had to explain my firing which was another obstacle to work around.

Ultimately, I got the job where I still am. It will be ten years in June. It isn’t fun and it has its issues. But the pay is decent and it allows me to live and doesn’t feel precarious or uncertain. I guess it feels stable and safe, which is enough for me right now. It is a union job which makes me feel like I have some protection from management if I need it.

So I guess I ended up in a better place after all, just not how I pictured it. Sometimes the path you end up taking is more of a winding one than a straight line. Either way it is your way, how you get there you don’t always know or plan for. I am still learning to believe in myself and in the possibilities. In a way I feel like I am just getting started, it just took me a long time to get here.