I’m Megan, and for the last six months, I’ve poured everything I know into training a new hire. I was generous with my time, sharing my shortcuts, my insights, and my expertise, thinking I was helping a teammate. Yesterday, I found out I was actually training my own boss.
Management promoted her over me. Instead of being grateful for the foundation I gave her, she looked at me with a smirk and whispered, “Guess the student became the master.”
I didn’t lose my cool. I didn’t scream or storm out. I just nodded and went back to my desk. But she forgot one crucial thing: I only taught her what to do, not how I think. Over the years, I’ve secretly documented every complex process, hidden shortcut, and client nuance that isn’t written in any manual. Those are the “invisible” parts of the job that make me valuable.
This morning, the reality set in for her. Her face went gray as she fumbled through meetings and struggled with tasks she realized she didn’t actually understand. She’s been calling me every ten minutes, desperate for help. I answer every call politely, but I only give her the bare minimum—the “official” version. I’m no longer sharing the secret sauce that makes the job look easy.
My manager even asked why the new lead seems so “unprepared.” I just shrugged and said, “I’m sure she’ll figure it out. She’s the master now, right?” Some call it petty, but I call it protecting my currency. If you want my expertise, you have to respect the expert.
