I’ve said I’m not going to write about my job, but I AM going to write about this part of my job:
I’ve been in the Working World seventeen years. I’ve had people fired around me. I’ve been scared for my own position. I’ve gotten involved in “stuff” and consequently, I’ve learned to stay out of “stuff.” There’s been gossip and drama and crying meetings and bad reviews and overlooks for promotions and write-ups for dressing too trendy and perhaps, most famously, admonishments because Dr. Friedman glanced down at my chest when I said the words, “Breast Center.” (I won’t mention that boss’s name. Suffice it to say that she’s got her jeans on…)
But since I’ve been at this current job, Workplace, I’ve been thriving. I love my co-workers, I love the mission of the organization, I love the travel that my position sometimes involves, and most of all, I love my boss, Mr. X.
Mr. X gives me the freedom to be creative and to figure things out. He hired me fourteen months ago after a ten-minute conversation without so much as a reference check because he’s confident in his ability to read people. He told me to come up with my own title and then gave me the room to live up to it. He listens to my ideas. He trusts me. He compliments me. He rewards me. And perhaps, most important of all, Mr. X is a man.
Nothing against you ladies, and nothing against me, but sorry, women don’t make very good bosses to other women. There’s jealousy and cattiness and competitions and overreactions and as my friend Cindy would say, Bananas and Crackers. There’s PMS and hot flashes and menopauses and bringing issues to work and staff meeting dramatics and passive-aggressive digs and daily eggshell walking. I could never focus on my position as the number one priority, because I always had lady bosses and therefore, I was always managing their emotions and moods.
Now, liberated by Mr. X and Workplace, I soar. Having a male boss has allowed me to fluorish without the anxiety of thinking every moment, “Am I going to have a job tomorrow?” or “What did she mean by that?” I can actually go to work and WORK.
This afternoon, Mr. X came into my office and told me that he’s proud of the job I’ve done. I told him that I’m happy to work here. He said he’s glad to hear that. Then he closed my door and told me in a soft voice that apparently he’s stepped on some toes here, and he resigned today. He’s leaving Workplace in thirty minutes and won’t be back.
I know I’ll learn from this and grow and blah blah blah. And it’s good that I could finally see my own potential as an employee and I’m (hopefully) not going to slip backward.
But right now, at this moment, I’m absolutely crushed.
