For almost six years, I believed I understood how my workplace worked.
I knew which clients needed extra attention, which reports had to be double-checked, which deadlines were genuinely urgent, and which ones were only labeled “urgent” because someone higher up had forgotten to plan ahead.
I knew how to calm an angry customer without escalating the situation.
I knew how to fix mistakes before they became disasters.
Most importantly, I knew my job.
Apparently, I just didn’t know what my job was worth.
I earned $55,000 a year.
The woman my boss hired to replace me was going to earn $85,000.
We had the same title.
We were supposed to perform essentially the same duties.
And somehow, my employer had decided that she was worth $30,000 more.
I didn’t discover this because someone accidentally left a spreadsheet open.
I didn’t overhear a conversation in the hallway.
I found out because my boss casually ordered me to stay late every day to train her.
