DISCLAIMER: All names have been changed for privacy and I also don’t want any lawsuits for talking about workplace drama.
So, here we are: the sequel to my original article about working at a boutique. Only this time, I’m writing about how great I feel after quitting! There’s a lot to unpack, so let’s just get straight into it.
At the end of my previous article, I mentioned how, despite some workplace drama, I was going to continue working at Boutique X “in order to improve my people skills and my fashion sense.” And I did, for another five months. For clarity’s sake, the original piece was written at the end of October. To be honest with you, I did keep improving as a retail employee. I learned the ups and downs of working for my former employers, helped with social media management, and even took on the task of training new staff members. As you can probably tell by now, I was in my element, dear reader.
But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, as to be expected in life.
Yes, I became more adept at selling, but some shifts were impossibly uneventful. This didn’t sit well with the owners, specifically Eduardo. He was adamant that we should be making at least $500 every day. I know that, in the context of what some bigger local boutiques regularly make, it doesn’t seem like much, but it truly was an achievement to make $800 on a good day. The mall I worked at has a very strange flow of people during the week and on weekends. Even on what was considered to be the higher-selling days (Friday-Sunday), there were times when two to three hours could pass by without a single person coming into the store.
Despite that, I did what I could to keep busy: changing the mannequins’ outfits, posting photos on social media, steaming the clothes, cleaning the store, etc. Yet, I continued to dread calling Eduardo for the hourly report, knowing he’d comment on how we should be able to bring in more customers, and how it was our fault that the store’s displays weren’t attracting enough attention. Needless to say, it was fantastic for my self-confidence.
But, what really reinforced my choice to leave was an occasion when I had to call in sick to work. About four days prior to this event, I had severely injured myself during a kickboxing class. I ended up straining a muscle, and I experienced intense pain for nearly two weeks. However, I was determined to go to work, despite having missed university classes so that I could recover from my injury. That Friday, I managed to work the closing shift while using pain relievers. I wasn’t miserable, but the pain was bothersome enough that my coworker even asked me whether I was okay enough to work. Yet, truly, the discomfort was severe enough that I couldn’t even sleep without tossing and turning in pain.
Saturday rolled around and I was still in quite a bit of pain, but I tried to push through it and prayed it would lessen enough to ignore it while on shift. I was not so lucky. About an hour before I was supposed to clock in, I attempted to get ready to go when I suddenly felt some of the worst physical pain I’ve ever experienced. To be what I considered a good employee, I sent a very polite text to my boss, Maria, informing her that I would not be able to make it to the shift because I was badly injured. The next thing I knew, I was messaged by both owners and called by my then-manager, Lara. She proceeded to ask me to “please do the minimum and try to come to work” and said that she would stay but had to leave early because she had to go to a concert that night. I was actually speechless. Almost an entire minute passed in silence and, when I spoke, my voice cracked when I explained how everything hurt to do. Something as simple as turning my head was excruciating, and even walking was awful.
Was calling in sick just an hour before shift my best moment? No, but at least I had assumed a degree of responsibility and called in. And for missing one day, the bosses actually demanded I send them a medical excuse.
… What?
I’d never missed a shift and had only requested one day off in the five months I had been working at Boutique X. Out of the blue,a total 180 happened and suddenly there was a lot of tension with the owners. Still, I stayed for another three months and began drafting a resignation letter.
Skipping ahead to the beginning of March, I updated my resume and resolved to apply to at least a few places to make sure I had options after I left Boutique X. I applied consistently for a solid two weeks, but I didn’t get any responses whatsoever. It was devastating, considering that I finally had some real-world experience on my resume and no one was calling me back.
Until it finally happened. I got a callback from a store in Plaza las Américas and had an interview with them that Sunday. It was great. The employees and manager I spoke to were very friendly and the atmosphere in the store was so inviting. It was immediately better than the space I’d gotten used to. Not to take away from my coworkers at my previous jobーthey were lovely and I’m pretty sure I made a lifelong friend thereーbut I’ve learned that a boutique just isn’t my scene.
A couple of days later, I called Maria to let her know that I had made my decision: I was resigning. Leading up to the conversation, I was extremely nervous and shaky. But I practiced what I would say several times and just called her. The conversation went much better than expected; she was actually calm and understanding. As soon as the talking was over, I let out the biggest sigh I have sighed to this day. The pressure just melted away from me and I was high on adrenaline. I laughed and laughed and laughed in shocked joy. I felt so much better about the boutique than I had for a long while, and that made me euphoric.
I met some resistance from my newest manager, Penny, who even tried to convince me by insisting that she’d talked to the bosses and that they were willing to pay me $10 an hour. The phone call was somewhat uncomfortable as she tried to persuade me in different ways, telling me that I couldn’t do this to her and that she’d gotten attached as I trained her. I deflected her request as politely as I could and just said that I’d do everything possible to make the transition easier for everyone and to help her be the best version of herself as a manager for the boutique. She ended the call by saying that she had faith that I would change my mind at the last minute.
I didn’t, and I can’t say I regret it. I’m much happier now and I feel like changing work environments was the next step for me. I grew as much as I could with the boutique and now, I’ll gain further experience in a new place where I’m sure I’ll thrive.