This post is a continuation of a personal story that began with My Career Journey as a Process of Values Discovery: Part 1. If you haven’t already, start reading there. I published Part 2 of this series back in July of 2021, five years ago. The reason why it has taken me so long to publish this Part 3 may become evident as you hear what happened next.
I left off at the end of Part 2 on a cliffhanger: My new manager, Director of Engineering, had begun to show his true colors, and they weren’t pretty. In my engineering leadership role, I felt responsible for protecting the people under me, preserving the positive culture we had created within our team, and if possible, doing something about it. My self-confidence was still relatively strong at the time, and I was optimistic that there must be a way. I couldn’t resist the feeling that it must be up to me.
Hungry for support and driven by intuition, I searched for workshops that might offer a greater perspective. I selected one by Michael Spayd and Michele Madore called the Agile Transformational Leader Workshop. It was there that I learned about The Leadership Circle Profile, Integral Theory and the work of Frederic Laloux. This workshop delivered exactly what I needed. What I was seeing was certain reactive behaviors in the “controlling” category of the LCP that my manager relied on, typical of leaders at the Amber/Orange stages in the Integral model. I was solidly at a Green/Teal stage in my own development, and that explained why what was obvious to me was completely invisible to him. Furthermore, it explained why some people in our organization weren’t bothered at all by my manager’s leadership style, while the more Green/Teal folks like me were horrified.
The paradox: Who am I to impose my values in this situation? I might be able to see this, but it’s not my job to teach it to my boss. Furthermore, you can’t really teach a higher perspective to someone. Transformation through the stages is a personal evolution of values that happens organically and gradually through lived experience. Despite understanding this, I had parts of me that found it extremely difficult to accept because of how wrong and unfair it seemed from my perspective. I didn’t yet have any way to make meaning of the reality I was facing that could hold the paradox of it being right for my manager to be where he’s at, and also right for me to be calling out the harm he was causing.
The workshop gave me inspiration to continue trying to make the best of it, and motivated me to seriously consider something that had been growing for awhile: My interest in a possible career transition into the field of professional coaching. I could see that I had a lot to offer when it came to bringing out the best in others, and I was already getting good at it of my own accord. I could see that this was something that leaders in this industry really needed help with, and it offered an opportunity to further integrate my interest in personal development into my career where it has previously been compartmentalized to my personal life. I had become deeply passionate about the possibility of transforming workplace culture to deeply include people as souls instead of viewing them as cogs in a machine, and I had seen first hand how, contrary to the Orange leadership perspective, this actually cultivates teams that end up producing far better results! Instead of desperately trying to convince people above me that something better is possible for the sake of my freedom to live according to my own values, I was ready to pursue a different path of helping others who were ripe for growing into this possibility themselves. All of this was going down right as my Uranus Opposition was taking place, which explains a lot.
Despite the fear that accompanied this possibility of a career transition, I went ahead and began my professional coach training with Newfield Network, a transformative and deeply inspiring 8-month program that was profoundly validating of everything I had already begun to see on my own.
During this time, things only continued to worsen with my new manager’s toxic behavior. Feeling responsible to try and do something about it, and emboldened by all that I had been learning, I eventually summoned the courage to speak up about it directly with him, tactfully and while trying to position myself as an ally and not a threat. It was really uncomfortable and his initial reaction was not positive. After much effort, we reached what could be a win-win agreement and I started to see a shift in his behavior. Within a few weeks, he backslid, perhaps due to stress and lack of his own ability to see why this was so important. To him, it probably began to look like I was the only one who had a problem with him, when in fact, it was around a third of our staff including several of our most senior engineers. It seemed like I was the only one with the courage to confront him directly about it, when in retrospect, the truth is that I may have been the only one optimistic enough to believe he could change.
When I eventually confronted him about it again, it did not go well. He was growing tired of the negative feedback and began to see it as a problem with me. From there, it quickly escalated into frequent projections that caused small misunderstandings to balloon into accusations that I wasn’t respecting his authority. The truth is that it’s natural for anyone to begin avoiding a leader who uses threats and criticism to try and motivate people. But as a matter of integrity, I was trying to include him anyways. I disliked that other people were frequently talking behind his back, which felt disrespectful, and my courageous honesty by coming to him directly was my attempt at taking a more respectful approach. Unfortunately, it also put me directly in the crosshairs.
One of the most disturbing interactions with him came after discussing a proposed change in direction with our product manager. I came directly to my manager to share the proposal, and his response was to angrily demand “why didn’t you tell me this sooner”? This triggered me and unfortunately, I lost my cool, angrily pointing out to him that “I’m getting really tired of these accusations. Right now, this IS me telling you as soon as it came to my attention. Why can’t you see that?” Reflecting his projection directly back to him in this accusatory way was understandable, but not the most constructive thing I could have done. It seemed to really piss him off, and he stormed off without a word for days.
It rapidly went downhill from there, and within a few weeks he’d managed to use another misunderstanding to convince our Director of Product Management that I was a threat to both of them, and that I was trying to manipulate perception to undermine their authority. The truth is that I was just beginning to see all of these shadows that were hurting us, and I wanted to try and help by bringing awareness to it without blame. I was not manipulating anything behind anyone’s back, even though I was discussing it with others to gather input on whether or not I was seeing things clearly. I was. That being said, there were many additional things I was not yet able to see.
It only took another month or two before I was laid off. But it wasn’t presented to me that way. My manager knew that I was interested in a transition to a coaching role, and presented it as an opportunity to find such a role within the broader organization. In a private meeting with my manager that included the Director of HR, I was offered a month to stay on the payroll while we worked to transition me into a coaching role, in exchange for my cooperation in how they wanted me to deliver the news to the team myself.
Despite this proposal aligning with some aspects of what I wanted, there were many things about it that were completely wrong. I was given the illusion of a choice when really, there wasn’t one. The only negotiating power I had in the situation was that the team regarded me very highly, and my manager wanted to minimize further damage to the team’s perception of him, without actually facing the mess he had created. He wasn’t capable of what would actually be necessary to achieve that, thus the manipulative tactic of using my own vulnerability in the situation to try and corner me to do what he wanted. But what he didn’t understand about me is how willing I am to endure discomfort and loss for the sake of my integrity when it comes to serving the greater good. I didn’t operate by the rules of the game he thought we were playing, at all.
That meeting ended with him agreeing to prepare details of the message that I would be asked to deliver to my team. When he delivered those details the next day in the form of a script for what I would say to my team, I was shocked. It would have been a complete lie. He wanted me to say that I was leaving of my own accord to pursue a coaching role within the company. The truth is that there was no role lined up for me yet, that he was forcing this on me because of unresolved issues in our relationship that he didn’t want to deal with, and that I would never choose to leave as such a time in our development cycle when the team was approaching a critical period. To call it a negotiation would be a joke, but I did manage to get my manager to agree to let me say that “it wasn’t my choice to leave at this time”. Yet, I couldn’t say anything at all about what was really going on. I warned him that this would surely backfire and that people would see through it, but he didn’t seem to care.
It happened in a meeting with all of my direct reports, my manager, another manager who would be temporarily taking over my reports, and the Director of Product management who had been turned against me. I awkwardly read the modified script as agreed upon, clearly unable to fake an appearance of authenticity. When I finished, my manager asked if anyone had any questions. There was a long silence, after which our lead engineer spoke up, expressing that something wasn’t adding up, and he could tell that there was something they weren’t being told. He asked what’s really going on here. My manager responded with deflection disguised as reassurance, saying things such as “we understand that there may be concerns” and “we are committed to making sure that the transition is as smooth as possible”. A manufactured response that didn’t actually address the question at all. Another team member spoke up, saying that none of this makes any sense. That they really like my style of management, that this is a terrible time for such a change, and that it would seriously hurt their ability to succeed at the difficult task at hand. My manager gave another bullshit response, side-stepping the question. After a third person spoke up and my manager continued with responses that were starting to feel deeply insulting to all of us, multiple team members began to leave the room as he was speaking, clear that he had no intention of engaging in a real conversation.
After that meeting, I received an email telling me I needed to pack up my personal things and vacate my desk immediately. The extra month on the payroll would be while working from home. They never told me this when the agreement was made. Also, neither management nor HR offered any support whatsoever in helping me to secure a coaching role within the company, which they made it sound like would be part of the deal.
The hugs, care, tears, sympathy, and solidarity that I received from numerous members of the larger team during that last hour in the office was incredibly meaningful. I had never experienced such a dark and twisted betrayal before and I could feel everyone’s hearts and souls with me, witnessing the injustice of what was happening together in a way that for me, has been extremely rare to see in the corporate world. In a way, it actually strengthened my values by confirming the positive impact I’d had on everyone for these six beautiful years. Some people may have looked at me like I was crazy for putting my heart into it as much as I did, wondering why I don’t just resign myself to being grateful for the paycheck while towing the line as many do. The answer to that has everything to do with the values that came to life for me back in high school, which I wrote about in Part 1 of this series. There’s a fierceness and a tolerance for risk that comes with my Aries longing for things to be truly awesome. To not settle for the status quo. To serve life for a higher purpose, even if it requires self-sacrifice at times. I’m not saying that everyone should choose this path, but I’m very glad I did, because it’s mine. And as a result of this very difficult experience, it’s clearer than ever.
But despite knowing this, this experience left me in a state of shock, rattled confidence, and a period of struggling with shame and self-doubt that I had never experienced before. It threw me into a state of questioning my own values at the deepest level. Apparently, I was more vulnerable and less capable of fulfilling my own mission than I realized up until now. I did not yet understand that what I was actually up against was collective shadow, embedded in a toxic paradigm of leadership that pervades our culture, and that people like my manager are just following a script that comes with this paradigm. I did not yet know how to use the power of my perspective in a way that could support real transformation to unfold of its own accord, even if it was my job to do so, which it wasn’t. I did not yet know that I was autistic, and that this seriously impaired my ability to navigate these kinds of complex social situations with clear anticipation of how my words might land with unintended impact. In hindsight, some of my social missteps make more sense now. I had no idea how badly I was in over my head, and I didn’t anticipate how much this experience would end up traumatizing me and would take years to recover from.
It was validating when I heard news in the following months that several team members had resigned after I left, and that within a year, my manager had himself resigned. That too was presented as if it was his own decision, when the truth according to my sources is that he was inevitably pushed out because it had all caught up with him. The Director of Product Management followed soon after. It wasn’t pretty, but what needed to happen for the greater good did happen in its own time. It was heartening to know that I had played a role in bringing justice, and that the impact it had on me wasn’t just a pointless result of my own foolishness as my shame would have me believe.
At the time I was laid off, I was about halfway through the coach training program at Newfield Network, surrounded by tremendous support and helpful perspectives. Job-free, I was also able to focus my full attention on the training, which deeply renewed my inspiration and set the stage for the next part of my career journey.
To be continued… Stay tuned for Part 4!