Last year, I worked Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because “no one with kids could.” I donāt have kids, so apparently that makes me the designated holiday mule. I didnāt complain ā I covered the shift, missed my family dinner, and came home to cold leftovers and an empty apartment.
This year, the schedule came out andāsurpriseāI was assigned Christmas Eve again. No discussion. No rotation. Just my name slapped on the holiday like it belonged to me.
I told my boss, politely, “I canāt do Christmas Eve again. I already covered last year. Someone else needs to take a turn.”
He stared at me like Iād personally ruined the holiday season. He said, “Well… employees with families need that time. Maybe this job isnāt for you if youāre not willing to be flexible.” Flexible = sacrifice your life, so others donāt have to.
I asked him why child-free employees are expected to give up every holiday. He said, “Because they have real responsibilities. You just have free time.”
That was the breaking point. The implication that my family, my time, and my life mattered less simply because I didn’t have children was insulting.
I looked him dead in the eye and said, “If my time is so free, then Iām free to find a job that respects it. Consider this my resignation, effective immediately. Good luck finding someone ‘flexible’ enough to cover Christmas Eve AND my empty position.”
I walked out right then. I spent Christmas Eve with my parents, phone turned off, eating a hot meal. It was the best gift I could have given myself.
