"I was fired in the most humiliating way, but it's made me stronger."

by Mamamia Team August 17, 2015

I didn’t graffiti anything at work… but I wish I had. (Source: Supplied.)

Now, here’s something that I don’t tell many people: almost 10 years ago, I was fired from a job. It was humiliating and awful. But as difficult as it is to admit, it was one of the best things that could have happened to me.

In my experience, when I really was fired, it was worse than all of the times that I imagined it happening.

New job, new life

Here’s how it went down. For my first degree, I’d studied graphic design. As much as I loved other creative aspects of that degree, one thing I learned was that I actually hated graphic design and that I didn’t have a flair for it.

Still, I persevered and eventually got a job as a graphic designer/fashion assistant. I took a brief break to “find myself” (i.e. experiment with being an actress and retail sales assistant), before giving the design thing one last, big effort.

I started a new job as a graphic designer for a small jewellery company, and I was determined to give it my absolute best.

"As much as I loved other creative aspects of that degree, I actually hated graphic design." (Source: Supplied.)

It was a pivotal time in my life, and I really needed the job to work out. My fiancé and I desperately wanted to get married and move in together, but neither of us had full-time jobs. We both still lived at home with our parents. Having this new design job was giving me a chance to finally save up for all the things I really needed as a young adult, like a car and a place to live.

Looking back, there were little hints that this job was doomed, but I tried to convince myself that I could overcome them.

The guy who had held the job before me had tensions with the head designer. The job was also on the other side of the city to where I lived, and it took a two and a half hour commute each way. I had to catch a bus, two trains and another bus just to get there.

I didn’t have a car. But design jobs were rare, and I needed this job so badly that I tried my best to make it work. I knew I wasn’t the fastest or best designer, but I tried my hardest and wanted to improve.

http://cdn.theglow.com.au/app/uploads/2015/08/mean-girls.jpg Why were all the girls at work mean girls?

The head designer, Mary, who had initially been so friendly, became very abrupt in the way she spoke to me. We used to joke around and gossip about our lives, but it seemed like she didn’t want to do that any more.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked her, as we walked with a group of the girls to get coffees.

“Training,” she answered, without looking at me. “I always train in the park on Saturday mornings.”

“Do you like training?” I said, trying to keep the conversation rolling.

“Why would I do it if I didn’t like it?” she snapped. Then she looked at one of the girls and they both rolled their eyes in front of me.

Mary began to spend long periods of time away from her desk. She would have extended meetings with Stephanie, the HR manager. I’d walk past and see them talking in Stephanie’s office, and think, “Maybe they’re talking about me".

Each time I suspected that Mary and my colleagues didn’t like me, I’d convince myself that I was paranoid. Lots of people worry that they’ll get fired, but it never actually happens, I told myself.

Tangled necklaces

My job was to design the catalogues and posters for the jewellery company, but one morning Mary called me over to her desk with a new task.

“Carla, I want you to take a break from working on the catalogue today, and organise these trays of necklaces.”

She pointed to five trays lined with black velvet. Each tray had a huge, tangled mass of silver chain necklaces on it. I was given the task of untangling the necklaces and lying them flat on the tray.

I was reluctant, as I didn’t feel that it was my job, but I told myself that I was being very Gen Y and that I had to get on with it.

"I was given the task of untangling the necklaces and lying them flat on the tray." (Source: iStock.)

Mid-morning, Mary walked past and looked at the necklaces I’d untangled. She didn’t say whether I’d done a good or bad job. What she did say was, “Carla, why don’t you take a nice necklace home with you?”

I thought it was a strange thing to say, especially as she’d been so unfriendly lately. I thanked her, even though I didn’t want to take anything, especially because the jewellery that Mary had designed was so ugly.

I was on a three month probation, and two months had gone by. When Mary said that we had a meeting with Stephanie later that afternoon, I naively thought it was because they wanted to end my probation period early and officially make me a permanent staff member.

We sat in the conference room, and Stephanie smiled at me in that maddeningly patronising and calm manner that she always had. Mary wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

I smiled at both of them, and Stephanie spoke first.

“Carla, we think it’s best that you leave the company.”

I was so shocked that I started crying straight away. And it wasn’t a dignified, single tear that fell from one eye, but ugly sobs.

“I can see you're upset,” soothed Stephanie, as Mary still looked in the other direction. (Post continues after gallery.)

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She then began to read from a report that she’d written about me.

“Carla always seems stressed, and unable to manage her workload. When there is a deadline, Carla panics. Carla is a lovely girl, and we wish her all the best with her future.”

That last sentence was the strangest one. To this day, I still wish that they hadn’t written that, as it was like swallowing a big, dry mouthful of raw sugar. And much of that report was untrue.

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