I Didn't Want to Leave

I loved my job.

Not in a casual way -- in a this-is-where-I-want-to-retire kind of way. I believed in what I was doing. I

believed in the people I was helping. And I believed, for a while, that I had found a place where my

dedication and ethics would be valued.

I made it clear -- especially to Elizabeth -- that I wanted to stay for the long haul. I said it out loud. I

committed. I was fully invested in the work, the mission, and the future I thought I was building there.

So no, I didn't want to leave.

Leaving wasn't a choice. It was something I was forced into after being pushed, isolated, and

ultimately betrayed by the very system I tried to improve. That's what makes it so devastating -- I

wasn't looking for a way out. I was trying to build something lasting. And I was trying to do it the right

way.

Watching it all unravel -- not because of anything I did wrong, but because I spoke up -- has been

heartbreaking. The grief isn't just about a job. It's about a dream cut short by people who couldn't or wouldn't do the right thing.

But here's the thing: even though I'm broken-hearted, I'm not broken.

I still believe in accountability. I still believe in transparency. And I still believe that when the system fails good people, it should be exposed -- not quietly buried.

I didn't want to leave.

But now that I'm gone, I'm not staying silent.

-- K