You just walked out of the meeting, and your hands are shaking not because you’re scared, but because you realize the number they offered you was an insult wrapped in a velvet glove. Let’s get real for a second, that feeling in your chest? That’s not failure; that’s your intuition screaming that you deserve more than what they’re willing to give.

I want you to take a breath right now. Just one deep, slow inhale through your nose, hold it for a second, and let it out. I know today felt heavy. I know you might be sitting in your car, or hiding in the bathroom stall at work, or maybe you’ve already driven home and are staring at your kitchen counter wondering if you made a mistake by staying quiet. First, please hear this: you did not make a mistake by being human. You were surprised. They were prepared. There is a massive difference between those two things.

When I left my corporate law firm, I didn’t just quit. I was pushed. And in the weeks that followed, I spent hours replaying every conversation, every email, every glance from my boss. I felt small. I felt like I had failed some invisible test of loyalty or competence. But here is the truth that took me years to learn: severance negotiations are not about your worth as a person. They are not even about your performance. They are about leverage, timing, and the cold, hard mathematics of risk management on their side. When you walk into that room, or when you read that email, remember that you are not negotiating your value. You are negotiating the cost of their transition. Keep that distinction clear. It changes everything.

Let’s talk about how these offers usually come to us. They don’t come with hostility. Oh no, that would be too easy to fight. They come with kindness. They come with pity. They send you an email that says, 'We are so sorry to see you go,' or 'We hope this package helps you find your next adventure.' It’s designed to make you feel grateful for the crumbs while they take the whole loaf. It’s a psychological trap, and it works because we are good people. We assume that if someone is nice to us, they are also fair to us.

But business isn’t personal, even when it feels incredibly personal. The person signing your check might be crying in their office. They might hate this decision. They might think you’re amazing. None of that matters for the number on the page. Your job right now is to separate your heart from the spreadsheet. I know that sounds cold. I know it feels ungrateful. But it is actually the most professional thing you can do. You are protecting your future self. You are ensuring that you have the runway to land softly, to breathe, to figure out what comes next without panic. So when they offer you that 'generous' package, pause. Look at it. Not with anger, but with curiosity. Ask yourself: does this cover my expenses for six months? Does it include my health insurance continuation? Is there a non-disparagement clause that keeps me silent forever? These are not rude questions. These are necessary ones.

That’s not a setback, that’s data. I say this all the time, and I mean it. Every interaction you have with HR or your former manager gives you information. If they rush you to sign, that tells you something. If they refuse to put anything in writing, that tells you something. If they use emotional language like 'we’re family' to discourage negotiation, that is a red flag waving in your face. Family doesn’t leave you destitute. Family doesn’t pressure you into silence.

You need to gather your own data before you respond. What is the market rate for severance in your industry? What is the standard notice period? What is the cost of your benefits? Write it down. Put it on a piece of paper. When you are emotionally flooded, your brain stops thinking clearly. But when you have numbers in front of you, you are anchored. You are no longer reacting to their guilt trips; you are responding to facts. This is where your grit comes in. You are a founder. You build things from nothing. You know how to look at a messy situation and find the structure. Apply that same energy here. You are not asking for a favor. You are balancing the scales. You are ensuring that the transition costs them what it should cost, not what they wish it would cost.

So, how do you actually ask for more without sounding difficult? Because let’s be honest, women are often penalized for being assertive in these moments. We are told to be gracious, to be humble, to not rock the boat. But the boat is sinking, and you are the only one who can steer it to safety. Start with gratitude. Always start with gratitude. Thank them for the opportunity to contribute. Thank them for the clarity of the decision. Then, pivot. 'I appreciate the initial offer. However, after reviewing my current obligations and the market standards for my role, I believe a package of X would be more equitable and allow for a smoother transition.'

See what I did there? I didn’t say 'you are lowballing me.' I said 'more equitable.' I didn’t say 'I need more money.' I said 'allow for a smoother transition.' Frame it as a solution to their problem, not a demand for your benefit. They want to leave quietly. They want to avoid legal headaches. They want to protect their reputation. Your request, if framed correctly, helps them achieve all three. It buys them peace. It buys them discretion. And in return, you get the resources you need. It is a trade, not a gift. Be willing to walk away from a bad deal, but be willing to negotiate a good one. Silence is expensive. Clarity is powerful.

Money is important, yes. But sometimes the biggest wins aren’t in the cash. Sometimes they are in the references. Sometimes they are in the extended access to company resources. Sometimes they are in the flexibility of your exit date. If they are tight on budget, ask for what else they can give you. Can you keep your laptop? Can you have a letter of recommendation signed by the CEO? Can you retain your stock options vesting? Can you negotiate a consulting agreement for the next three months instead of a lump sum?

These creative solutions show strategic thinking. They show that you are still adding value, even as you leave. And frankly, it makes them feel better about the separation. People like to feel like they are helping you succeed. Give them that narrative. Let them be the heroes of your exit story, as long as you get what you need in the background. This is not manipulation. This is diplomacy. You are navigating a complex social dynamic with grace and intelligence. Use it. Remember, the goal is not to win an argument. The goal is to secure your foundation. Everything else is secondary.

Once you sign, you have to let it go. This is the hardest part. You will wonder if you could have asked for more. You will replay the conversation in your head. You will doubt your choices. Stop. Breathe. You did your best with the information you had at the time. That is enough. Do not revisit the negotiation unless there is a material breach of contract. Otherwise, close the file. Focus on your next chapter. You have a network. You have skills. You have resilience. The severance is just fuel. It is not the destination.

And please, protect your mental health during this time. Do not isolate yourself. Talk to trusted friends. Talk to mentors. But do not gossip. Gossip drains energy and clouds judgment. Stay focused on your goals. You are building a new life. You are proving to yourself that you can handle uncertainty. That is a skill that will serve you for the rest of your career. You are capable. You are worthy. And you are never alone in this process.

Thank you for listening, for showing up, and for trusting me with your time today. You are doing the hard work. You are facing the fear. And you are coming out the other side stronger. I’ll be here tomorrow, ready to help you navigate whatever comes next. Until then, breathe. You’ve got this. And remember, I am rooting for you, always.