I'm not going to say don't burn your bridges, but ...

Sometimes you are just going to do it anyway. And you are going to have to determine if you can just deal with the fallout.

The first time I burned a bridge I was 21. I was working at the Cambridge Family YMCA. Back from a summer and semester off from my first Northeastern Co-op position in Florida. I had an agreement with my boss that I could come back to my position after the break. I was reliable at showing up to my shifts, and had a pleasant demeanor with kids during swim lessons, so they were happy to keep my spot open.

After a only a few weeks, that boss left and a new one took her place. I’ll just call him “J.” J liked to wear a suit and tie, where the previous directors of the aquatic center wore jeans and tees. He wanted to impress that he had the pool covered and never needed to physically jump in and help. This of course meant that we needed more guards, but instead he found it easier to give out more shifts to the existing group of guards. And doled out raises to anyone who took on more shifts.

I soon found myself commuting into Cambridge for three mornings a week before the sun came up, two closing shifts, and all day Saturday, and part of Sunday. And prioritizing making money over classwork. I asked to have my shifts reduced and J responded with, “This is your problem, not mine.” I told him I would take a reduction in pay to have my shifts reduced, but he didn’t care. I decided I would hold out and just make due until my next co-op position, at which time I would give notice and this time not come back when I was back to classes.

But it just sort of blew up in my face.

First I told J that I had accepted a co-op position and would be starting a full time job right after July 4th. He was pissed because that meant he had to find someone to cover over 20 hours of work. Then he held a mandatory lifeguard all-hands meeting to discuss the summer programs. It started before the end of my shift, and since I was teaching, I took my time to shower and get dressed afterwards. He saw me leaving the building and asked why I wasn’t attending. I told him because I wasn’t going to be there that summer so it wasn’t a good use of my time.

He flew off the handle and screamed at me in front of the rest of the staff, acting as if he didn’t know and I was dropping this on him in front of everyone.

The screaming was the last straw. School was suffering, the commute was terrible, and I truly hated being there. I wrote up a resignation letter and cc’ed his boss. I called out his inappropriate behavior and the fact that he wouldn’t let me give up shifts. And ultimately he gave me no choice but to quit. I ended the letter with, “no further contact is necessary.” I don’t even remember if I bothered collecting my last paycheck.

Relief didn’t come until midway through my studio class. I felt my phone vibrate and knew what it was. I knew exactly what happened that morning. I didn’t show up. Someone had to call J and let him know. He had to rush down, put on a pair of trunks and teach my class. Sit on deck for hours while people swam laps. He had to work my full shift, and if he didn’t find coverage, he was going to have to do it the next day.

I could feel the heat in his anger in that voicemail. He was livid at what I had done, what I had made him do, and especially that I had told his boss what had been going on. He ended the message screaming, “no further contact necessary!” And added a few choice words to describe me.

So I burned a bridge. I don’t regret it. And it hasn’t had an impact on my career or my life in any way. I did however learn to set boundaries and prioritize myself and my goals over the desires of others.