I remember the first time I got fired. It was my first “real job.” I was the Online Community Manager at RH Reality Check (now known as ReWire) and my boss decided to suddenly fire me with absolutely no warning. You are probably thinking “so what? this happens,” but this particular injustice stays and weighs on me years later due to the hypocrisy that lead to this move.

This injustice stays with me because I believe that reproductive justice means supporting and centering the needs of the most marginalized — as a low-income Black woman and a survivor of gender-based violence, I consider myself among them. Unfortunately, the nonprofit publication’s claims to champion reproductive justice were not reflected during my time there on staff.

Almost a year into my tenure, my boss requested that we meet one-on-one before there I had a glowing annual review (absolutely no complaints) from my boss. At the end — without my prompting— she told me I’m not being paid enough. I was pleasantly surprised when she promised me a $10,000/yr salary raise.

But the raise never came. When I asked her about it weeks later (I thought maybe it’d take a few pay periods to kick in? I honestly expected the best from her), she told me she changed her mind. Minutes after my email inquiry, she told me I’m fired. And if I wanted my paltry two weeks’ severance, I couldn’t tell anyone what happened.

The firing quickly devolved into a series of accusations — that had nothing to do with my job performance— from her. She emphasized that another employee (who was not my supervisor, had nothing to do with my day-to-day work, and had absolutely no business discussing with my boss about my employment status) thought I should be fired, too.

A few hours later, she revoked my severance because I vaguebooked about my firing and said that it was a violation of the terms she set (but did not yet agree to). I was further hurt because as a Black woman who has had the unstable public life, I depend on social media for community and connection since much of my day-to-day life is isolated.

The sudden and unexpected termination was three years ago and I have not yet recovered from this injustice. I don’t think I ever will. My access to health care has been unsteady. My economic situation is unstable at best, but I’ve had to use many social support programs since then.

My story isn’t unique. But the infuriating part is that numerous people have come to me with similar stories of their own.

I’ve waited years to share this publicly, but I cannot keep silent any longer. Why?

I have nothing to lose anymore. I don’t have any money. I don’t have a job. After unexpectedly losing a key to a better life, I still struggle to get some financial foothold.

When I posted about my experience privately, many people reached out to me personally to tell me that my story is completely unsurprising. They, too, had their own crappy experiences with the same leadership and know of others who have some, too.

When the reproductive justice movement gets such limited funding as it is, it pains me to see an organization that fails to practice internally what it preaches take even a small amount of that valuable money. And thanks to that, a culture of fear persists that prevents us from freely speaking our truths.

This isn’t a hit piece or a shaming technique. I write this for the folks who may not be able to talk about how they’ve been betrayed (because it feels like betrayal, right?) by employers in the progressive movement. There are simply too many of us.

And so, to the people who’ve been wronged by employers who claim to have progressive, justice-oriented values: you are not alone. And I’m sorry you’re amongst us.