I've been working remotely for nearly two decades, long before Covid showed the world that you don't have to be in an office to do good work. 

I first joined Accenture as a contractor, back when it was Andersen Consulting, and spent those early years in the office because that's just what we did then. Those years mattered. I built the relationships that would carry me through everything that followed.

Eight years later when I joined the company permanently, remote had become the norm in North America. Accenture had made the shift at least partially to save money, because maintaining offices in 120 countries isn't cheap. 

Once I realized I could work from anywhere with a Wi-Fi signal, I knew there’d be no going back.

I was there through Covid on the crisis comms team, and the data after lockdown was clear: people worked more at home, not less. Productivity soared. That should have settled the WFH debate. And yet, when the world reopened, return-to-office mandates started anyway, often with productivity cited as the reason. 

What played out from there was a swinging pendulum, driven not by evidence but by whoever was in charge. 

When a leader preferred people in seats, that's what we did: mandatory quotas, card swipe counts, even photos on social as proof of presence. Then the pendulum would slowly swing back. 

The debate over remote work has never really been about productivity. It's about control. And who gets to decide.

When Accenture laid me off two years ago, along with 20,000 of my colleagues, I watched many fellow impacted friends take roles that put them back in offices after years at home. As my search dragged on in a smaller market than where I'd started, I felt the pressure to do the same. But after advancing through multiple interviews where a long commute and a new work wardrobe were going to be required, I knew I had to say no. At that point I was also navigating the unexpected end of my marriage. I had bent myself around other people's desires and demands for far too long.

I decided then that I had every right to insist on flexibility, especially at this point in my career and given everything happening in my life: divorcing at 50, raising a teenage daughter, my mother moving in, a chronic illness. 

Remote work isn't a preference. It's a necessity, and I'm done apologizing for it. 

And I know I'm far from alone in needing it. A rigid office schedule doesn't work for working parents, or for people managing disabilities, caregiving responsibilities, or any of the other very real challenges that make up a life. 

Insisting everyone conform to the same four walls and the same fixed hours isn't a neutral policy. It's a very clear choice about whose needs matter. That's not a productivity problem. That's not even a trust problem. It's a values problem.

A company that won’t offer flexible work is telling you what matters most to them — and who. 

I choose to work for organizations that value me as a whole person, not just for the hours I'm willing to give them. That's not a high bar. It's what we all deserve.