Women in Engineering: Quitting Defense for Pharma & The Full Unhinged Exit Interview

Welcome back to She’s Been Through Some Engineering Shit, the podcast where a woman in engineering who has survived nuclear‑adjacent machinery, government pay scales, and men who bang on tables for emphasis breaks down the chaotic realities of STEM life with humor, honesty, and the kind of storytelling that makes other women in engineering whisper, “Oh my god… same.” If you’ve ever been underestimated, overworked, or stuck in a male‑dominated environment that thinks “diversity” means letting you speak first in a meeting, this episode will feel painfully familiar.Today’s episode is the full, unhinged saga of my exit interview — the one where I walked in with notes, a 6–7 item list, and two years of pent‑up frustration, and walked out with my boss’s boss literally tearing up. It’s part TED Talk, part therapy session, part roast of engineering workplace culture, and a brutally honest look at what women in STEM deal with behind the scenes.We start in 2023, when I was leaving my government defense job for corporate pharma. Management had promised me a GS‑14 promotion for doing high‑grade work on nuclear ships, compressed air systems, and high‑pressure platforms. Meanwhile, my male colleagues already held the higher grade. In the exit interview, I finally said it out loud: “You strung me along.” I laid out the cost savings, the doubled team output, the presentations to leadership — all the receipts. The honesty was robust, and Tom looked like he was experiencing a midlife crisis in real time.Then there’s John — the Human Earthquake — a loud, chaotic peer who banged on tables like he was reenacting Wolf of Wall Street without the money or charisma. He called everyone “gents,” including me, the lead engineer. I explain how this wasn’t just annoying, but emblematic of the subtle disrespect women in engineering navigate daily. Tom nodded like he was watching his entire leadership philosophy crumble.We dive into the diversity conversation: how leaders often “don’t see problems” because they’ve never been dismissed, harassed, or called “sweetheart” in a meeting about nuclear machinery. I tell Tom why checking in with high performers, especially women, actually matters. He tears up. Twice. I did not expect my exit interview to turn into a vulnerability workshop, but here we were.Next comes the San Diego chaos tour: six weeks, eighteen machinery upgrades, Harbor Freight runs, nuclear‑ship breakdowns, and the moment a stakeholder threatened deployment if I didn’t finish. I froze, cried in the lowest deck of the ship, and realized how unsustainable the job had become. My boyfriend (now husband) told me, “You can quit.” And suddenly the door I thought was locked swung open.Right before flying home, I discovered I’d been signed up for a Philly naval conference I never agreed to. I proved it. My boss ghosted me. I spiraled in my basement like a Victorian chimney sweep who’d had enough. Then I went anyway — and he didn’t even show up. It was the kind of workplace absurdity that makes you question your entire career path.The episode ends with the final goodbye: a manager who didn’t meet with me, didn’t acknowledge anything, and didn’t do an exit interview. It was disappointing, weird, and very on brand. And it cemented the realization that I didn’t need to stay loyal to a system that wasn’t loyal to me.This episode blends engineering burnout, workplace culture, early‑career anxiety, leadership gaps, and the specific flavor of chaos women in engineering navigate daily. If you’ve ever felt overlooked, overworked, or one Harbor Freight run away from losing it, this one’s for you. It’s a reminder that leaving isn’t failure — sometimes it’s the most powerful engineering decision you can make.Catch you in the next episode, where we keep unlearning all the outdated career advice we never asked for but somehow absorbed anyway