When my boss denied my request for time off to see my ailing grandmother, saying, ‘work comes first,’ I realized it was time to make a stand.
For almost five years, I’d worked under a man—let’s call him “Mean Boss”—who didn’t believe in time off. He made it clear that personal time was a luxury.
“Vacations?” he’d scoff. “You get weekends, don’t you? That’s all you need.”
It didn’t matter if someone was sick or had an important family event. Work always took priority. I remember my coworker Jake came in one day, sick with the flu. Mean Boss glanced at him and said, ‘Unless you’re dead, you’re working.’ Jake later passed out at his desk, but instead of concern, Mean Boss told us to prop him up so clients wouldn’t notice.
At first, I thought maybe these were isolated incidents. But over time, it became clear that Mean Boss thrived on control. He liked making everyone feel the company would fall apart without him micromanaging.
When I heard my family was planning our first reunion in over a decade, I knew I had to be there. My grandmother’s health was failing, and we didn’t know how much time she had left.
I submitted my vacation request six months ahead. I thought there was no way it would be denied with so much notice. I was wrong.
Mean Boss called me into his office the next day. “We can’t afford to lose you for a week, Mindy. This is our busiest time.”
I tried to stay calm. “I understand, but this is really important. My grandmother is very sick, and this might be my last chance to see her.”
He didn’t even look up from his computer. “Family reunions can be rescheduled. Work comes first. You’re too valuable to take off whenever you want.”
I felt my frustration rising. “With all due respect, sir, I gave six months’ notice. That’s plenty of time to plan—”
“Enough,” he interrupted. “The answer is no. Now get back to work.”
I left his office, furious. My coworker Jen saw me and asked what happened. When I told her, she was shocked. “What are you going to do?”
I didn’t know yet, but I wasn’t going to miss that reunion. I texted Mean Boss that evening, hoping he’d reconsider, but he just repeated his excuses. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
That night, I called my mom. “How’s Grandma?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“She’s hanging in there, but she keeps asking when you’re coming,” my mom said.
“I might not be able to make it. My boss won’t approve my time off.”
There was a long silence. “Your grandmother is dying, and he won’t let you go? That’s terrible.”
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