To the man who kept the password

The letter, in short

His boss made him write a manual explaining everything he did. Then he was fired for being a few minutes late. He had seen it coming, so before he left he put a password on the file.

Two weeks later they called. Nobody could open it. He said no.

His friend says that’s petty, because they paid for the work. He hated the job and would never go back. And yet he keeps hoping they’ll call again. He wants to know why.

My reply

I’ll give you my answer first.

I don’t think you’re waiting for them to need the file. I think you’re waiting for them to say you mattered. A phone call about a password can’t say that.

What getting fired actually says

Getting fired isn’t only losing a job. It is being told, in one go: you don’t matter here, we can do without you. It lands on the part of us that has always been a little worried we are replaceable.

And think about the manual. You were asked to write down everything that made you good at that job, so someone else could do it. It is being asked to make yourself replaceable, with your own hands.

So we do a very human thing. We turn it round. I was dropped, so now I’m the one who holds on. I was made to wait for their decision, so now they can wait for mine.

It takes the sting out. But it also means the people who hurt you still decide how you feel about yourself. You are still waiting for their call.

Needed is not the same as valued

Something sadder sits underneath. They needed a password. They didn’t ring because they missed you. The call looks like the thank you you never got, and it isn’t one.

Being needed isn’t the same as being valued.

People in my practice sometimes say it in one breath: “I was the one who knew where everything was.” Real pride. Then, a second later: “And nobody ever once said thank you.” Both things, together.

Who gets to end it

It ended on their terms, on their day, for a reason that sounds thin. So the password is the one bit of the ending that is still yours. They decided when you left. You get to decide when they’re done.

Your friend may be right that it’s petty. I think it’s also something else. Being dismissed takes away your say, and we try to get a little of it back.

Why you want them to call

As long as they need the password, it isn’t quite over. There is still a little line running back to them, and every time the phone might ring, it says you still matter there.

It is a hard thing to want both: to be free of them, and still to matter to them. I don’t want you back. I just want you to keep wanting me, a bit.

What the call can’t give you

I won’t tell you whether to send the password. That is between you and them, and who owns what isn’t my department.

But I would be curious about the waiting. They won’t ring to say: “We were wrong about you. You were really good at this.” As people often put it to me: “I didn’t want them to need me. I wanted them to miss me.”

So maybe the question isn’t how to make them ring. Maybe it’s who else could tell you that you were good at it. Including you.

If you have never locked anyone out

You may still have a version of this. The ex you don’t want back, but would quite like to struggle a bit without you. The friend you stopped calling, just to see if they’d notice.

In all of those, someone else is still holding the verdict on what we’re worth.

The useful bit isn’t to stop wanting it. It’s to notice when being needed starts to feel like being loved, and whose word we keep waiting for. It is usually the person least likely to give it.

One last thought. A password keeps them out. It also keeps you in, a bit. I think you deserve to be out of there for good.