I Refused to Leave My Legacy to My DIL’s Daughter—She’s Not My Family


Food choices may seem trivial to some, but for others, food is tied to identity, belief, and the way we choose to live. When it feels like someone doesn’t respect this, it can leave you questioning your place. That’s what happened to Laura (F, 27).
I’ve worked at my company for years, and everyone knows I’m vegan. It’s not a secret, and it’s not something I ever made a big deal about. Most of my coworkers aren’t bothered by my food choice, and although I’ve occasionally had to deal with the “rabbit food” joke, I’ve always taken it in good spirit.
It was our team party last week. It’s sort of a quarterly tradition to celebrate hitting our sales goals. The entire team pitches in, and it’s just a happy celebration with food, drink, and music. It’s been a tough quarter, but I managed to do really well, so I was looking forward to this celebration.
When we were taking polls on where to order food, I suggested places with both vegan and non-vegan options. I assumed, very reasonably, that there would be something I could eat.
On the day of the party, I walked in, hungry, ready to celebrate with my coworkers. The buffet looked amazing. People were piling their plates high, but when I walked along the table checking dish after dish, I realized that every single item had meat, cheese, mayo, or butter. There was nothing for me, not even a salad or a fruit bowl.
The team knew I was vegan, and usually someone would make sure that there would be at least one vegan dish for me. I didn’t say anything. I just poured myself a drink and sat with everyone, so I wouldn’t look like the odd one out.
When my coworker noticed I had nothing on my plate, I quietly asked her who had been in charge of the food. She told me it was the new manager, and suddenly it made sense.
This manager had made it a point to always mock my food choices ever since he found out I was vegan. I thought it was just his sense of humor, but this deliberate dig at the party felt too personal. There was no way he could have forgotten there was a vegan on the team, especially since it was something he mentioned almost every day in the office.
I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood, so I didn’t say anything. But right before we wrapped up, the manager demanded, “Alright everyone, $40 per person for the party. Pay me before you leave.” I said, “I didn’t eat anything... there were no vegan options.”
My coworkers seemed surprised, although no one said anything. The new manager gave me this tight, almost amused smile and said, “It’s mandatory. Everyone pays. There was food for everyone, if you didn’t like it, that’s your problem” And then he walked away.
I stood there holding my wallet, feeling stupid and singled out. But I refused to pay.
The next day, when I went to the office, everyone seemed quiet around me. No one mentioned the incident at the party, but no one seemed to be on my side. It was clear that everyone was worried that they would offend the new manager.
The worst was when I found an email with the subject line, “Formal HR Meeting — Attendance Required.” My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe he had reported me.
I walked in expecting a discussion. Instead, there was a document already printed out with my name on top.
The HR manager slid it toward me: an official written warning for “failure to participate in required team activities.” I just stared at it and tried to explain what happened: the lack of vegan options, the fact that I wasn’t refusing to participate, I just wasn’t comfortable paying for food I didn’t receive.
She nodded politely but kept repeating the same line: “Participation includes equal contribution to shared experiences.” It was clear that I was alone in this. I signed it because I didn’t have a choice.
Walking out of that office, I felt smaller than I had in years.
When I got back to my cubicle, no one said anything to me, only the new manager gave me a small, smug smile. After that, everything at work felt different. The laughter, the meetings, even the small talk.
I keep thinking: If one tiny, reasonable boundary leads to punishment... what else will?
I’m mad at the new manager and at my coworkers who have worked with me for years. I no longer feel respected here, and I’m seriously considering handing in my two weeks notice. My partner told me to wait it out, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.
What would you do if you were in my place?
Laura
HR is supposed to make the workplace easier, but sometimes things don’t work the way they should. Here’s another story about a reader who turned the tables on HR after they were denied their vacation days. Do you have an HR horror story? Let us know in the comments!











