Now I understood that if you don’t document your value, other people can pretend it doesn’t exist.
Then something unexpected happened.
Emily asked me to talk privately.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
She looked nervous.
“Why are you leaving?”
I froze.
“I didn’t say I was leaving.”
She gave me a knowing look.
“You didn’t have to.”
I smiled.
“Why do you think I’m leaving?”
She lowered her voice.
“Because I was hired to replace you.”
I didn’t respond.
“And because,” she continued, “I don’t understand why they’re paying me so much more.”
I looked at her.
“What did they tell you?”
“That this was a newly created senior position.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s interesting.”
She frowned.
“It’s not true?”
I shook my head.
“My title hasn’t changed.”
She stared at me.
“They told me I’d be taking over your responsibilities.”
“You will.”
She looked uncomfortable.
“I didn’t know.”
“I believe you.”
She sighed.
“I don’t want you to think I did this to you.”
“I don’t.”
And I meant it.
Emily wasn’t my enemy.
The company had created the situation.
Not her.
The following Monday, I received an email.
An interview request.
Then another.
Then another.
One company offered me $72,000.
Another offered $78,000.
Then I interviewed with a competitor.
They asked me about my experience.
I explained what I did.
They asked about my accomplishments.
I gave them numbers.
They asked what salary I expected.
For the first time in my career, I didn’t feel guilty saying a number.
“Eighty-five thousand.”
There was silence.
Then the hiring manager smiled.
“That sounds reasonable.”
Two days later, they offered me $92,000.
I stared at the email for several minutes.
$92,000.
Nearly $40,000 more than I had been making.
For doing work I already knew how to do.
