Come, gather 'round. I have to tell you a little story.
A personal one. For real, and you will likely not find much humor in this one, so if it is humor you seek...well, I have a few things to write about today, let me hope one of the other posts at least cracks a smile.
I have been an insane work-freak for most of my adult life. As in "work is my everything, always". Relationships have ended over my job, I have teetered on exhaustion and combusting mental health, and I have lost people in my life due to work. More than once I have heard the words passing from a man's lips: "This is it, H. You have to choose work or me!" And I would shrug, and walk away, even if my heart broke a little (or a lot, in one instance). Work has been the one thing in life that has been my focus, kept me going, kept me driving. There was always another level to achieve, more work I could take on, someone I needed to prove myself to. Work is life, comrade.
I am not for one second pulling an teary Oprah moment when I say that work is likely so important to me because of my upbringing. I don't pull that blame shit. Having a bad day? It's likely not because your father is an alcoholic. Unable to be in a successful relationship? We have only ourselves to blame. But I can say that after my parents' divorce, my mother instilled in me a hard-core drive to always be fully independent and self-sufficient. This is not a bad thing, I think, just an attitude. A behavior. A survival instinct. I don't need a man to take care of me, honey. They're nice accessories, but not needed as daily wear. I will earn my own money, have my own accounts, and work in whatever way I see fit.
Once I graduated from college I went headfirst into a stockbroking firm. I worked my ass off and hated my job. I was miserable and didn't see the point. A tip from a close friend led me to a consulting firm, which plugged me into a telecom operator job (not the kind where women holding brightly colored plugs answer in nasly voices "Hello Operator, how may I direct your call?" but a telecom giant in the South. I worked in their corporate offices writing training material on their equipment, all those humming boxes that make your telephones in the US work at home and in the office.) It was heaven. I could work as much as I want.
Then the consultancy firm put me in with my current company, Company X. I would be writing training material on even bigger whirring boxes that make your phones work. I worked 60-80 hour weeks, weekends, evenings, it didn't matter. I traveled three weeks out of every month-Sweden, England, Singapore, anywhere, everywhere.
Then I moved to Sweden and bumped into the perfect job. I took it on in February 2001, working on the whirring boxes that make your cell phones work, and never looked back. Masses of responsibility, constant travel, and people I genuinely enjoyed working with. I worked my ass off, and loved it all. It was heaven. I worked with a project manager that I got on great with and we were actually friends.
Then came redundancies. I survived the first round with zero problem or, I admit, worry. The second round came 6 months later, and again there was little worry or problem.
Then came the third round, and my fear was that a little white American girl who had not been with Company X very long would be hung out with the laundry. I wasn't. But many people I love were. And 56% of my department went.
I was promoted and given more responsibility. I worked harder than ever, but I began to become disenfranchised with it all. I was still on top, still working hard, still surrounded by people I liked and could work with.
It all came to a screeching halt in January, 2003. I found out, from my Dear Mate, that people were talking about me. That rumor had it there would be more redundancies and my name was top of the list to go. Company X was sorry they kept me. People thought I was incompetent and arrogant. I was a waste of space. And my Dear Mate told me the project manager I got on with so well had actually bad-mouthed me to many people, including him.
No one believed in me. No one.
I fell apart. And I was off work for three months. When I returned, I was put into a less stressful position, although I am once again taking on more responsibility. If I can keep this responsibility, I might just survive the next round of cuts, the ones that are coming in Novemeber to the tune of 33%. My manager gave me the highest pay raise in the group.
But I still can't shake the feeling like I am being labelled incompetent and useless, even though people around me tell me otherwise-"They will never let you go in the next round of redundancies". "You are one of the few that work hard and handle the big issues." "You are one of the few people who knows what they are talking about." I feel like a tiny glass shell that is on the edge of a desk. A few more knocks and it will slide me right off.
My Dear Mate told me yesterday a few of the names of people who had allegedly said these rumors. They are people who are warm and friendly to me still, and I feel a bit cut up. Is it true? Could they have said those things?
It's hard to be a good person sometimes. Maybe we all get wrapped up in our lives, our problems, our insecurities. I have a few people in my life that, when someone makes a negative comment-or even tries to!-I get pretty snarly with them. It made me realize that maybe they don't know how well I regard them, how good I think they are. And if I am in need of someone within Company X pulling me aside and saying "Look, H. Fuck 'em. You're good, we need you, case closed!" then maybe they are in need of it too.
I am the type of person that comes across as cocky, independent, maybe even cold sometimes. But I have learned that I need people even more than I had ever suspected. Men...no longer an accessory, but someone to try to rely on. I am still working on that. Leaning does not come easy after you've been standing so long by yourself.
The truth is, I can't believe in myself if no one else does. And despite some of the very nice comments I get from people, I never know if I can trust them now.
Not anyone.
Take a minute and tell the friends you have in their life, who are maybe having a rough day, that they do a good job and should be proud.
All done with my Hallmark moment.
-H.
Posted by Everydaystranger at September 10, 2003 12:16 PM | TrackBack