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I Almost Got Fired from My First Corporate Job — Here’s What Never Left Me

It was a brisk, chilly winter night in Midtown Manhattan. My boss, Frank, and I scurried across the street into a packed Irish pub of his choice. I spotted two open stools at the crowded bar and grabbed them quickly. Before I could finish sitting down, Frank was already to my right, ordering us a couple of beers. I don’t even remember what I had (I hope it was a Guinness).

For a moment, we settled in, soaking up the warmth and the lively atmosphere despite the noise. We clinked our fresh glasses of beer, and I noticed Frank was in a more relaxed mood than he had been earlier that day.

Our conversation started off casual, but halfway through my first beer, he finally leaned in and asked with sincerity, “So, how are you feeling?”

If ever there was a way to sigh in deep disappointment, I did it right then. “It’s been a rough day.”

“How did that mistake happen again?” he asked.

I exhaled, already wishing I could forget. “I was so worried about making a mistake that I ended up missing a few details in my email… If it had just been an email to one person, it would’ve been easy to resolve. But it went out to so many people all at once…I don’t know. It was so embarrassing.”

How did I even get here? As I sat there with Frank, reflecting on my mistake, I realized just how unprepared I had felt from the moment I started at this agency.

Starting My Career in an Agency

Four months before that night at the pub, I finished successfully interviewing for my current role at the world’s leading global communications and PR agency. In New York City, no less!

I had recently graduated from the University of Pennsylvania and was thrilled about the move. I had interned in the city before, surprisingly fell in love with it, and had just gone through a spiritual journey leading me to this point. I was certain this new chapter would be great for me.

My eyes were bright with excitement the first day there. The building was beautiful, and the floor I worked on was trendy and sleek — no soulless gray cubicles, just an open floor plan where everyone seemed somewhat equal in their work and capabilities. Outside of the financial services department, people wore jeans and hip t-shirts (can I say “hip” without sounding lame?). The top floor had an amazing rooftop area overlooking the city. There were tons of young people in their early 20s like myself. The kitchen, amenities, conference rooms, all of it, added to the aura.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. And rather quickly.

First and foremost, that beautiful aura lulled me into a false sense of security. In hindsight, I think I let my guard down too much and allowed youthful exuberance to take over. I didn’t realize relaxed clothing didn’t mean a relaxed culture. The agency was a high-stress environment for almost everyone. Senior and executive VPs, even Managing Directors, might have their desks right next to a junior employee like myself. Work-life balance wasn’t exactly encouraged; the only times I left the office before 6 p.m. were my first and last weeks there.

I soon found my bosses were so busy and overworked that it became my problem. I received no real training, no feedback, no consistent direction. No one even told me to “figure it out.”

Meanwhile, I watched as many leaders acted fun and lighthearted until they didn’t. I’d see them bad-mouth people on the floor — or not so privately chew them out — no matter their level. Or, their body language would suggest they thought you (a junior level employee) were stupid for not immediately grasping what they wanted. It made me afraid to ask for help or even clarify expectations. Worse, I was constantly sent to work with other teams under the leadership of people who weren’t my boss or manager, further muddying expectations.

Why do I tell you all this? Because as a young professional, all of this hit me at once and at 100 mph. I hadn’t yet learned how to say “no” at work or how to prioritize when five different people — senior or not — were hounding me to finish what mattered to them at the expense of others. I didn’t realize I’d be working long hours, but then get reprimanded for working “too many hours” outside my billable time for clients. Now, add in working for four or more different clients, all managed by separate teams…I’ll stop there. Hopefully you get the picture.

I was stuck in stress stasis.

Actually, that’s an understatement.

I was often in panic mode.

The Incident — What Did I Do?

I was supposed to pitch a client’s industry report under an embargo. It was fairly simple. Just letting reporters know what the report was, who it was from, and that I could facilitate interviews with a spokesperson.

What made it complicated was getting this report out to such a massive number of reporters in a timely manner. One of my colleagues, a few positions above me, had shown me how to send a mass email to a media list, where the system would automatically sort the right names to the right emails, with the attachment included.

Admittedly, this was a big client and a big report, so I was hyper-focused on getting it right. I hadn’t had many opportunities to pitch yet, so this was a huge chance for me.

I set everything up, hit send, sighed in relief, and moved on with my day.

An hour later, I decided to check my sent mail to see if I had any initial responses. I opened the first email, and instantly, a surge of cold-blooded fear shot through my body.

“Wait…what did I do?”

I frantically read, repeatedly clicked, and searched for answers, only to find the full reality of my error.

I had sent my client’s embargoed industry report to a massive media list (and I mean massive) but I had named the WRONG company in my email. Upon further inspection, I saw that wasn’t my only mistake. I had also put one company name in the subject line but a different company name in the body of the email. And to make matters worse, both of these companies were clients of ours in the same industry. They weren’t direct competitors, but it was close enough to cause serious confusion.

At this point, I stopped looking for errors — the damage was done. Anyone reading on a first glance would have no idea which company I was actually promoting.

I silently panicked.

All my team VPs were off somewhere else on the 14th floor. My direct manager was in meetings and unreachable. I had no idea what to do.

This went on for an hour. Or maybe it was five — it felt like five.

My purgatorial hell finally subsided for a moment, when by chance, I caught Frank as we both were exiting the men’s room. Before I could even think, I blurted out, “Frank, I made a mistake. I sent the wrong info to the wrong client, and I don’t know what to do!”

He tilted his head, his expression confused. “So, what exactly did you send? And to who?”

I stammered through a rushed, disjointed explanation about the clients, the report, the mix-up, everything. He eventually pieced it together.

Frank stayed calm but got very serious. “Okay, go back to your desk. Give me half an hour, and I’ll come talk with you.”

I went back, dreading every moment.

I had just moved across the country for this job, and I wasn’t even getting paid much. But it was all I had right now. What if I got severely reprimanded? Or worse, fired?

Getting internships and jobs during college had been so difficult for me. I always felt behind my classmates, especially the ones landing bigger and better opportunities in banking, consulting, and tech.

If I lost this job, would I be stuck for months?

“Today Would Have Been Your Last Day”

My thoughts were interrupted by Frank at long last. I expected him to be furious, but to my surprise, he wasn’t as angry as I’d imagined. Though, he was still very serious.

“Okay, I want you to find an open conference room and call every single reporter who received the wrong pitch. Keep it brief and professional. Let them know it was a simple mistake and clarify which client the report is for. If they don’t answer, leave a voicemail.”

I locked in on every word. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

Frank nodded. “Also, I’ve already chatted with the people who actually need to know. Don’t worry about reaching out to them. Just make sure you finish the work here, and then go check in with Eboni.”

Eboni was my manager at that time. So, I nodded again, thankful for his patient response. Before I walked off, Frank made one last comment.

“I know this throws a wrench in you attending our client dinner tonight. But if you’re able to finish before it’s over, you can stop by. Just shoot me a text when you’re on your way. And when the dinner’s over, let’s you and I grab a beer. Sound good?”

Shoot. I had been looking forward to that client meeting. But, I had put myself in this mess. I nodded again, knowing more conversations awaited me later today. With that, I hurried off and got to work.

For the next few hours, I called every reporter on the list. Many answered, and to my relief, they were relaxed about the mistake. They just said, “Thanks,” and moved on. A handful had outdated contact information, which, honestly, took some of the pressure off. For the rest, I left voicemails, just as Frank had instructed.

With each call, I felt both better and worse. Better because I was actively fixing the problem. Worse because I’d created double the work for myself due to my own incompetence. I couldn’t help but wonder if the journalists were thinking:

“Who’s this young guy who doesn’t even know how to write an email? Seriously, who hired him?”

Finally, I was ready to leave the office. Before heading out, I checked in with Eboni for a private conversation.

I’ll never forget her words:

“Make no mistake. If this had reached anyone above Frank, today would have been your last day.”

She wasn’t unkind about it. Eboni was a great manager. She was quiet and conscientious, a good balance for my high energy and emotional tendencies. She only gave advice that was constructive for my growth.

Still, this feedback hurt.

I had never been in a position like this before. I had always done well at my jobs. I had never been the one to cause problems. Like anyone, I had made mistakes before, but never something this big.

“Is it better now? What did Frank say?”

“Oh, he was furious,” she said bluntly.

Yikes. I was fortunate he hid it from me.

Eboni continued, “But chewing you out wouldn’t have solved anything. Also, if I were you, maybe don’t catch him off guard with bad news while he’s in the bathroom.”

My face went full red. Somehow, this was even more embarrassing than my mass email debacle. I looked at her, and then back down at the table in front of me. What was there to say?

Eboni must have known my demeanor was more than just this moment. She broke the silence: “It seems like you’re struggling with the agency. Why do you think that is?”

She was right. I was struggling. This whole situation was just the culmination of a bigger issue. So, I told her the truth.

I admitted I was constantly stressed. That when I first joined, I hadn’t been trained properly, so I was often unsure of what to do or why. I didn’t always understand what made something “good” or “bad” by the company’s standards, especially with how I’d been pulled in multiple directions by many different teams. Worse, prioritization was difficult with multiple senior leaders breathing down my neck.

“I swear, I’m working hard and trying to understand everything. I really am,” I said, holding back frustrated tears. “But it feels like I was told to run without direction or guidance. And I know our team is busy, but I really need their help. Also, I don’t know if it’s just me, but the environment here is intense...people seemingly expect you to ‘just get’ things without much explanation, so when I don’t, I’m afraid to ask. It’s like their body language says, ‘you’re stupid’ for asking something they think I should’ve already known.”

Eboni thought for a moment.

“I’m glad you told me that. I think a lot of that is true. This is a unique place, and it can be hard to figure out without guidance. And yes, some people here are not looking out for your best interest. Quite the opposite. But let me help you with this. I believe you have tremendous potential — we just need to point you in the right direction. I’ll start some conversations and get back to you, okay?”

I agreed, feeling a small sense of relief.

Finally done with this part of the day, I texted Frank I was on my way. I grabbed my coat and scarf, headed out into the cold, and caught the next subway to Midtown.

How Do I Move Forward?

At the pub, Frank and I chatted for a while — about the incident, about work, but mostly about where my headspace was at. It was embarrassing for me, but like my conversation with Eboni, I knew I had to be honest. Plus, he genuinely seemed to care.

“I’ve never been this stressed in my life,” I admitted. “Not even when I was a student-athlete at Penn. I’ve never been in a role where, after such a short time, people started questioning me this much.”

I continued, “My anxiety is really bad. I’m not sleeping. Even basic work functions feel infinitely weightier than they should. I just can’t seem to shake it or calm down. And this mistake just made it worse.”

Frank’s take was plain. “You’re a nice guy, Zach. But you’ve got to learn how to relax a little. If you don’t, it’ll only make you worse at your job. You won’t be able to think the way you need to. If you want to succeed anywhere, you have to learn how to manage it.”

Fair point. “What should I do then? I really want to do a good job.”

Frank took a sip of his drink and said, “Let’s figure that out together. There are things you can do to be a better comms professional in general, sure. But more importantly, let’s focus on what you’re naturally good at and build on top of it. And for the things you’re weaker at, we’ll get the right people around you to help coach you through it.”

And we did.

Thankfully, the team committed to giving me what I needed to succeed. People like Frank, Eboni, and other team members took an active role to coach me through my weaknesses. They gave me chances to shine in areas I naturally showed promise.

I eventually realized an internal company role was a better fit for me than agency life, but the lessons I learned in those months stuck with me. That job, with the mistakes, the coaching, and the pressure, prepared me for every role and circumstance that came next. Working in a healthcare company during COVID, and then an insurance tech startup, felt easy in comparison to my agency job.

What I Learned — Or Will Never Do Again

Now, this isn’t a story about how I conquered anxiety. It’s not about how unfair my first company was to me. And it’s not an invitation to ask questions, even fair ones like:

• Could I have been better at managing my anxiety? Yes.
• Did the company set me up for success when I started? No.
• Was it even worth being there, considering its toxic reputation? Well…yes and no.

After my conversations with Frank and Eboni, I started thinking hard about what I needed to take away from this experience (and brush with near-firing). I didn’t like the hand I was dealt, but if I didn’t learn from it, I’d never move forward.

Seven key lessons stuck with me and continue to shape how I work to this day:

1. Be careful where you place trust. Be charitable and gracious with people, but don’t assume everyone has your best interests at heart. Not every colleague needs to know the same level of detail about your work, struggles, or thoughts. Be discerning.
2. Be proactive, not reactive. I still ask how I can help, but my approach shifted to: Find what needs to get done, start doing it, and let the right people know as necessary. They’ll either encourage you, appreciate the work, or provide feedback to refine it. Either way, you’re moving forward.
3. Choose your words wisely. Words are powerful. They can build a person up or cut them down. They can make you look sharp and strategic, or frenetic and uncertain. As someone who likes to talk, I’ve had to make a practice of being quicker to hear and slower to speak. Which, by the way, involves asking questions like: Is this helpful or harmful? Is my idea clear, or does it need more thought? Will an executive see the strategy, or is this too tactical?
4. Find your strengths and own them. Eboni once told me to be ‘passable’ at everything in my work, i.e., at least a C+ student, while finding a couple of areas where I could be an A+ student. That advice changed everything. Instead of trying to be great at all comms functions, I focused on becoming an expert in my few strongest areas. Over time, I became the go-to person for those things. And once I mastered them, I was freed up to find new areas where I could be an A+ student — and become a respected generalist people want to work with.
5. Seek out smart people and ask them to invest in you. No one grows alone. After my conversations with Frank and Eboni, I got more intentional about asking for mentorship. And not just for skills, but for how they thought, how they solved problems, and the kinds of questions they asked. At every company since, I’ve handpicked the people I could learn the most from and spent time listening. That mindset shift made me better at asking, “Why?” And from there asking, “What is the best way to solve this challenge?” as the means for taking action.
6. Don’t waste people’s time. I learned this the hard way early on. When an executive asks how you’re doing, they’re being courteous — they don’t want a full report. And when they ask about your work, they care about results or strategy, not the deep weeds you’re working in. Keep it concise (smart brevity). If they want more details, they’ll ask.
7. Never work in a culture where you’re left to fend for yourself. I was very fortunate to have people like Frank and Eboni. If I’d been on a different team, I might not have lasted. High turnover, widespread frustration, and a cutthroat environment were red flags I should have paid more attention to. Maybe it’s worth noting: if a shiny object is within your reach, be careful. No workplace is perfect, but if you’re focus is on that shiny object, you might miss the warning signs around you.

Now, I’m not a finished work of art under pristine museum glass. And I’ve gotten better at managing anxiety and navigating tough situations, thanks to my faith, family, and a healthier support system (that’s a story for another time).

But, what matters is this experience grew me — a lot. Maybe not in the way I wanted at the time, but in the way I needed. Without it, I wouldn’t be nearly as effective in my career today. It also reinforced something else: I want to help younger people navigate their own challenges — especially to remind them they’re not “weird” for experiencing difficult human emotions.

Because in the same way Frank came along side me, that kind of support can make or break someone. And maybe, I wouldn’t have learned these seven lessons without it.

Figuring it Out

Frank and I sat in the pub for a few hours. Once we got past the work frustrations, we discussed in more depth what I needed to do to succeed. Knowing he wanted to help made me feel more secure, but I also understood that the real work was up to me. I still had to foster demonstrable skills and prove my value.

After a second beer, the conversation lightened and we discussed other non-work topics: music, sports, Star Wars, the Irish, and his inexplicable hatred for Staten Island. No pressure, just the person to person kind of stuff I needed.

Eventually, the night wound down. It was late for a Thursday, and we both had early mornings ahead, so we ventured back out into the cold to catch our respective subways home. I thanked Frank for his time, and the beers. He gave me a quick hug before we parted ways. “Hang in there man. You’re going to figure it out.”

He was right. I did.