The Story of Weirdly Wired Women:


I drove nervously to work on Monday...

Things had started getting uncomfortably weird the previous Wednesday afternoon. They’d progressed to unbearable by Friday.

 I’d talked to my bestie over the weekend, and we figured out how to broach what was happening with my boss.

 He was waiting for me when I walked in. He insisted I come to his office before putting my coat and bag down.

 This is weird.

 HR was in his office.

Oh. So, THIS is happening.


Panic rose in my chest. Blood pounded in my ears.

 “We’re going in a different direction with the department,” HR said. “Here is your severance package paperwork. I’ve packed up your office, and a car is waiting to bring you home. I’ll help you clean out your car.”


I shakily asked if I had done something wrong, and she said no.

I shook my boss’s hand and told him I had enjoyed working for him. Then I carried out the boxes from my office with my mind swimming.

The company is not in trouble. They just won a national award. “Another direction with the department,” my ass.

I helped them clean out my large company SUV—the back was full of bulky toddler paraphernalia they hadn’t considered when they ordered a sedan to bring me home. The car barely held it all.

I had to sit in the front seat. Awkward for the poor car service driver.

What the hell just happened?

I texted my husband. Then my best friend met me immediately for margaritas.

 The next day I called an employment attorney. I told her the story, and she said, “It sounds like someone there just didn’t like you.”

 I thought about that. There was only one person that could be. Unfortunately, he was the chairman. And his name was on the building.

 A few days later, I called HR with some final questions before I signed the paperwork.

I had nothing to lose, so I asked, “You don’t owe me an explanation… but did Ed just not like me?”

She sighed. She said she shouldn’t tell me but then gushed the whole story. He didn’t think I had the personality to do my job. (A job I’d successfully done for other companies in much tougher environments, so clearly not true.)

 Some bonkers stuff happened between when he decided this and when I got fired—and honestly, after hearing it, I was glad I didn’t work there anymore.

 But still.

 Until then, I had never thought my identity was tied to my career—but it clearly was. And it felt like my career was over.

I had done all the “right” things.

College. Engineering job. Promotion to project engineer. Promotion to project manager. Promotion to team leader. Promotion to director.

For two decades, I played by the rules.

And the job I’d just lost, I had specifically sought out because it was a stable, safe job…because that’s What. You. Do. when you have a family to support.

You play it safe. You follow the rules.


So, I did what I was supposed to do…I started looking for another job.

But I couldn’t get into it. I dreaded interviews.

What was I doing? Not anything I really liked. Hell, my dad had been the one who told me to go into engineering.

I was good at it, yeah. And I used to like it. Or parts of it.

It finally hit me that I didn’t just take all those promotions because I was supposed to. Promotions happened with new jobs. And new jobs and companies meant a little fun and figuring things out. And then…well, I was always looking for what was next.

I was endlessly searching for a place I fit. And that fits into my life.

And it just didn’t exist. At least not at someone else’s company.


So, I started my own.

I didn’t know what I was doing or how it would work out. But I couldn’t bring myself to put the good little corporate girl mask back on.

Not without trying to build something that lets me be me.

That was at the beginning of 2019. I’ve never looked back.

And that stupid mask? In the compost bin.

The work status quo doesn’t fit so many of us. Because it wasn’t designed for people who don’t fit a very normative mold.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can have a livelihood that fits your life.

I love what I do. I replaced my income, work fewer hours, and only work with people I like.


 And I did that with:

  • Only a bit of know-how and an idea
  • Undiagnosed ADHD
  • Anxiety and Depression
  • A global pandemic going on
  • A young child struggling in school from his own neurodiversity

Now I want to help others who don’t feel like their work-life fits—or has ever fit—them.

 And that is how Weirdly Wired Women came to be.