I Got Fired (and I Feel So Light)

I knew I was already on thin ice. But it happened sooner than I thought.

On Monday, January 26, 2026, I attended a meeting with my supervisor called Year End Review. Sure, I knew not to expect stellar marks. This was my first in-house counsel job after 10+ years of firm life. It took getting used to. I knew there were points of improvement that I needed to address in the year ahead.

My manager brusquely responded to my questions about how his weekend was. Then someone from HR also joined. “Performance reviews are pretty serious,” I thought.

My manager started the meeting by saying my employment was being terminated. It was like he was reading off a script. HR chimed in to explain next steps in a 2v1 skirmish against me.

I was half shocked and half relieved. I felt the job wasn’t the best fit for me. But I had had plans to stay for maybe another 2 years until at least two tranches of RSUs vested. They had almost tripled in value since being granted.

A job that didn’t suit me after all

The reason for termination was the same old story—that I did not move projects forward in time and that I didn’t pay attention in meetings.

I thought I improved on these points since they were mentioned a few months ago:

• I did everything according to deadlines imposed on me.
• I drafted a rush patent application on short notice.
• I turned in four drafts (two applications and two responses to Office actions) the week prior to the Year End Review. In retrospect, they wanted me to finish what was on my plate before this meeting was executed.
• I paid more attention in meetings. I tried to chime in when relevant. I downloaded Granola AI to review meeting points after each meeting.
• I moved other non-legal projects forward.

My manager wouldn’t expand beyond this. I suspect there were other reasons, like:

• They didn’t have enough work that fit me after all.
• They didn’t see a stable future for me here.
• They didn’t feel like I was contributing enough.
• They didn’t think I was proactive enough.
• I needed too much micromanagement.
• They just didn’t like me anymore.
• We were not a good fit.

I agree that the company and I weren’t a good fit. The technology, the culture, the micromanagement, the startup feel with no standard processes… My impression of the in-house position became very different from when I first got the offer.

Perhaps the rigid corporate bureaucracy wasn’t for me. Perhaps I’m not a good corporate employee. Perhaps I’m better suited for independent work, something like just doing the work and billing for it at a law firm.

I don’t even know where the kill order came from. For all I know, my manager could have just been a mouthpiece for the company and had no other choice. My manager had sent me words of optimism in the weeks before. He was the one who campaigned for me to join last year. He was selling me to the company and the company to me. Maybe he oversold to both parties and created a position that wasn’t actually necessary.

I hope I’ll run into him to clarify one day.

If I needed to, I could find a new position fairly easily. I have a network of people and leads who could potentially help me find a new position. I have old colleagues. I have a mailing list that trusts me from teaching them bar prep. In the worst case, I could go back to my old firm. I kept the bridge alive by giving them a six-week notice and completing all projects on my plate when I left. There are many possibilities.

Constraints force us to get creative

I find myself being forced into situations to see new possibilities:

• Last year, I got into a hit-and-run accident for me to finally replace my old car. It was the best outcome for my 15-year-old Ford Escape. It was totaled and liquidated at (very) fair market value without the hassle of finding a buyer.
• Last month, I got fired and had no excuse left to do the things I said I wanted to do for YEARS—running my bar prep business full time, focusing on better options trading, and starting other projects (like writing and licensing or selling my own patent applications).
• I realized I don’t have to be employed. I knew it was theoretically possible, but the relief of nothing breaking when actually experiencing it is different.

I’ve been feeling quite good since that day, after an hour of initial shock. I also felt an initial loss of identity from being a patent attorney for over a decade.

But the girl I’m seeing didn’t bat an eye at the news and said this was an opportunity to run my business full time (and she gets more of my time). My parents are happy for me. I get to wake up whenever I want with no bullshit meetings.

I feel fortunate that I laid the foundation for myself to feel secure after what happened. Most people would desperately cling to their jobs. My manager told me a story about how he got laid off and worked his ass off for this company because his livelihood was on the line. I feel zero of that. Now I’m free of corporate titles. I’ve escaped the maze of org charts.

I won in the end (but also, who knows). I got everything I wanted as I turned 40 (except the RSUs). I’m like an anti-hero who received no consequences for his actions, like in the movie No Other Choice.

Did I finally leave the law, or is there more law for me down the line? The path to law-firm partnership was shelved but not closed.

I wrote this on Blind: