A perspective on the strange ritual of corporate gratitude:
It finally happened. The company we’ve known for so many years decided we were no longer needed, and now we’re standing on the highways of LinkedIn, Indeed, or Monster.com, like hitchhikers on a highway with our thumbs out, hoping someone will pick us up. It’s a gut-wrenching feeling of loss, being stranded, and not knowing what to do next.
After years of hard work, sacrifice, and loyalty, so many of us feel compelled to thank the very company that just eliminated our position. And for what—the experience we get to add to our resumes, the money they paid us for doing the work, the opportunity to test our survival abilities?
Even while we’re hurting—our confidence shaken—we go to LinkedIn or Facebook to write something positive about our experiences, the memories we made, and the people we’ve met along the way. Does focusing on the positive aspects of our time there somehow lessen the initial blow to our ego in an attempt at self-reassurance that we’ll have those same experiences with the next company?
Are we trying to appear strong? Are we trying to will things into existence by reassuring ourselves that we’ll be okay and hoping others will offer kind words of encouragement? Are we putting on a suit of armor and telling that company that they don’t control our lives, even though this is impacting us more than we want to admit?
When I see those posts, I don’t see gratitude, and I certainly don’t see any flaws. I see someone who’s hurting because I’ve experienced that same pain. I’ve been there—not knowing what to write, or if I should even write anything.
We craft a reflective, thankful post. We add a few anecdotes about specific experiences. We call a few people out by name and thank them. For me, I wanted to relive a few good moments to get through the new reality of starting over (or not even knowing where to start).
What do you think? Why do we do this? You’re not alone in feeling the way you feel, even when it seems that way.