Had a day off from blogging yesterday. Was busier than usual at work and a lot of it was irritating stuff like servers going down or blackberries not synching, so whilst I had plenty of time, I lacked the inspiration to turn my attention to the blog. Also, my friend S and I had an impromptu lunch as it was Monday and we both needed a lift, so I got my therapy that way anyway. Plus all the good brain feeding oils from the tuna don that I scoffed with her and the fact that the sun reappeared meant that it was a pretty good day, all in all.
We are trying to ascertain what future the company I work for has in the current and future climate. It’s a fascinating bit of office politics, observing the 3 partners telling each other not the whole truth and nothing but; rather they are communicating in platitudes and non-committal statements, each playing their hand close to their chest. I am strangely unbothered. Firstly, as they aren’t even telling each other where their heads are at, there is no point whatsoever trying to figure out what they have agreed as a group and partly because I am ready to go with the flow if anything happens and I have to move on again. I’m not scared any more to do something risky and take a leap of faith if I have to and am starting to feel more confident and secure in who I am and what I want. All my previous career moves have been safety nets, so maybe it will be my chance to push the boundaries a bit. All I quite fancy is a quiet summer and if the time is up for the business, that they choose to do it in the autumn when things aren’t so slow and the weather’s not so good!!
As I age I am starting to get a chip on my shoulder as being dismissed as ‘just a PA’. It never phased me much before, as I was content in my role, good at it and enjoyed the variety. I also respected my bosses and considered them experienced at what they did, whilst they simultaneously appreciated the jobs that I undertook. However, I get deeply frustrated these days by people who consider themselves ‘better’ than me for having climbed higher up the ladder. In many cases they aren’t more experienced, nor do they have a greater understanding or abilities in certain disciplines.
My malaise probably started about 4 years ago when I followed a boss (who had been sacked) from a national newspaper to a publishing company. 2 years on he was sacked again and by then I had realised that his meteoric rise in his previous role had not been down to ability but good luck and a lot of brown-nosing. As did the owner of the company who waved goodbye. I was a casualty whilst working for him for a second time and yet prior to him being given the chop, I had been running my own magazine and handling everything from print to sales. When I was made redundant (no boss, no PA even if I did do far more than that!) I slipped back into office management, having only ever done the publishing role in an informal capacity, so felt somewhat cheated out of a job I loved by his incompetence and delusions of grandeur.
I was happy to take on my current role as the 2 partners instilled a sense of team work in me, which meant that we worked hand in hand rather than from the top down. All was hunky dory until a third partner joined, with an exceptionally supercilious attitude from his years as an investment banker. He not only made me feel like an admin person again, but his high-handedness unsettled the others, who have seen the whole dynamic of the company change since he arrived.
I know it’s time to do something for myself, therefore, as I am more convinced than ever that if something is going to work, then only I can be the driving force. I have to step down off the coat tails of all my bosses, past and present, and put my own neck on the block. I have started to see how my ‘never quite good enough’ opinion of myself had hindered me all these years.
When I was very young I acted on stage without a care in the world; lead character in a play about a wizard at the age of 7. By age 12 I wouldn’t even audition for the chorus in a show as I was crippled by self-doubt. This only got worse, not better, during my teenage years. Everything I did was always great but never stellar. I was the B+/A- student across the board. I didn’t excel at sports, neither. I was creative, but not talented enough to go to art school. I was academic, but not enough for Oxbridge. I was good at languages, but fluency came after a struggle. My parents endorsed my belief that I was OK but wished I could be slimmer, smarter, funnier, sportier and, above all, more popular. I was a huge let down to my mum as I wasn’t part of the in-crowd. Far from it, actually. On the rare occasion that I did have any relationship with a popular person, she would be beside herself with pleasure, then deflated when it was clear that they were only talking to me for a reason and said relationship didn’t exist. Superficiality was the order of the day, but I just couldn’t work hard enough to attain this level of perfection that she craved. I was always a little bit of a let down to them and in my head, I was convinced that was because I really was always ‘a bit shit’.
My parents' current level of opprobrium stems not only from their belief that Kenny isn’t good enough for me, but also that I am not good enough for anyone. In their eyes, I have never met their expectations and sell myself short, so what talent and chance I have had, I have squandered. Incredibly, I pretty much bought that view for many years. I beat myself up for being a let down when, actually, I had always tried my best. That just wasn’t enough. K also thinks that he doesn’t deserve a break, having had a fair few awful periods over the last few years. Convincing him that he is not flawed has finally led to me accepting that I too, am not flawed. I won’t beat Paula Radcliffe in a marathon, but I have completed one. I won’t be a top businesswoman like Nicola Horlick, but I can at least envisage having a moderately good one. I will never be famed for my beauty, but I can look half decent and attract the odd bit of male attention if I make an effort. Sure, it’s still second best (or possibly even third) but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.
I drank to take myself out of myself. A tipsy me was flirtatious and fun. A drunk me was raucous and naughty. I could imagine I was popular and the life and soul for as long as it took to sober up. I ignored the fact that a hangover was required for me to have either pulled or made a new chum. The idea of achieving either thing sober was impossible, as then it would be sober, straight, boring and tedious me who everyone would be subjected to, and that was hardly fair in my eyes. I drank to ensure that I didn’t see myself as my critics did, through a kaleidoscope of cracks and holes.
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