How Being Legally Silenced Prolongs Workplace Trauma and PTSD
A recent study conducted by the Speak Out Revolution in the UK found that of 90% of workers who signed non-disclosure agreements after workplace abuse said it had a negative impact on their mental health.
I can relate.
I was involved in a highly traumatizing workplace dispute. While it was legally resolved, I can’t reveal anything about what happened to me or any details of the dispute’s resolution.
Why did I sign my right to speak away?
At the end of a several month ordeal, I was completely drained, unable to sleep, and felt like I was losing my mind. There was no way I could look for another job in this condition and certainly was in no shape to work.
The only option was to resolve the dispute in a way that allowed me the time I desperately needed to recover, both mentally and physically, from what was an extremely traumatic experience.
While I have no regrets about resolving the dispute rather than suing my employer (which would have prolonged my trauma with no guarantee of a positive outcome), I do regret that I did not understand how non-disparagement provisions work, or the long-term negative impacts of not being able to discuss anything about my traumatic experience going forward.
Most people are familiar with non-disclosure agreements or NDAs. These are confidentiality provisions that prohibit you from speaking about what happened to you. What I did not realize is that even if a severance agreement does not contain an NDA, it might contain a “non-disparagement” clause which prohibits any “negative” statements about the employer. If you can’t say anything negative, then the non-disparagement clause functions like an NDA. I did not understand this until it was too late.
I walked away thinking I could at least speak about the facts of what happened and how it made me feel. I thought I had dodged the dreaded “NDA gag” that many employers unfairly required of abused workers.
But then within a month of resolving my dispute, my former employer started sending me cease and desist letters, meaning they were threatening to sue me based on certain things I was saying in public. I had no idea what they were talking about, and they offered no details to back up their claims, so it seemed they were just trying to frighten me. It soon became painfully clear that they were taking a very aggressive position that anything negative I said could get me sued. Even if I tried to share the facts of what happened or how I felt about it, that could easily be interpreted as speaking “negatively” of my former employer.
Unfortunately, my attorney at the time never explained to me how non-disparagement provisions can operate as “effective NDAs.”
There are so many painful aspects of what happened to me, which I will be writing more about in the future. One of the hardest aspects is the feeling of being completely alone. The organization isolated me and made me feel like I was in the wrong. The shame, confusion, and abandonment were beyond painful.
As anyone who has been through trauma knows, being able to share your story with others is an important way to not feel so alone. Sharing with others helps to validate your experience. Humans need connection, especially when we are hurting. I desperately want to find others who share my experience.
However, with few exceptions, I cannot talk about the details of my trauma with anyone. This inability to share my deepest pain makes the pain even worse and prolongs the feelings of isolation and confusion.
As a therapist explains:
“Healing from significant trauma often depends on the support we have around us and being able to vocalize to them what happened. NDAs can in these instances be seen as an added layer of trauma after the event itself, as they effectively prevent us from processing the event with others in a way that feels right for us.”
Even as time passes, I still experience “self-gaslighting” where I wonder, did I make it all up in my head? This is what psychological abuse does: it makes you doubt yourself and your reality. Not being able to share these feelings only prolongs them.
If a friend or colleague asks me about my departure from this organization, I have to say that I cannot talk about it. So that immediately shuts down an opportunity to create connection with another human. Maybe that person experienced something similar. Now we are both deprived of a deeper human connection, one that could be therapeutic for both of us.
Moreover, it could be damaging to my reputation, as it seeds doubt. For some colleagues who I know well enough, they are understanding and it’s probably fine. But for others, my shutting down the conversation around what happened leaves questions as to the circumstances of my departure. This places my professional reputation as risk.
Another aspect of being silenced that brings me great pain is that the perpetrators will not be held accountable and will likely continue to abuse others until they are exposed. Just as no one warned me about my abuser who turned out to be a covert narcissist, I am now unable to warn others. I live with the fear and guilt every day of how many others my abuser will go on to abuse. To all my abuser’s future victims: I am so sorry for the harm you will suffer.
Had I fully understood the implications of what I was signing, along with the potential negative long-term impacts on my health and well-being, I may have reconsidered. I believe that employment attorneys should educate themselves of these sorts of implications of silencing clauses. This is also why we need trauma-informed lawyering, which I am happy to see is becoming more recognized.
Many other women also do not realize the ramifications. As one survivor put it:
“It was explained to me, but I didn’t understand the repercussions of not speaking about it or how I’d feel being silenced. Being silenced is choking. I wish I'd been told about the ramifications of being silenced, it still feels unfair that I can’t tell people – openly – what happened.”
Finally, as someone who has called on other white women to speak out about sexism and other workplace abuses, I feel somewhat hypocritical despite being legally bound from telling the entire story. That’s why I am starting to tell my story in this way, without naming names, in hopes of inspiring others to share your stories, in whatever you are willing and able. I know of other women who are also legally bound from telling their stories of abuse. Other women are not legally constricted but choose not to speak up out of fear. But this is a major reason the abuse continues. And it must stop.
Do you want to work with me on how to avoid NDAs? Contact me here.