Blurred Lines
When I left the corporate world in February, I knew there would be a great number of adjustments to not having a 9-5 daily commitment. I’ve enjoyed a fully flexible schedule, ability to choose projects that interest me and no defined dress code. I miss the clout being associated with a large corporation afforded me, access to certain technologies and most of all the steady paycheck. I considered all of these before taking the plunge and knew the good outweighed the bad. Somewhat unexpectedly, the adjustment that is having the most profound effect is the reconciliation of my professional and personal personalities.
With one foot in the blue collar world (farm girl married to a plumber) and one in the white collar world (college-educated and moderately well-read) I’ve frequently struggled with feeling like I don’t belong. In order to convince myself I deserved a place at the table in the business world, I created a persona. I faked confidence in my abilities and pretended I was just as worthy of a position as anybody else. I amplified my positive attitude and convinced myself that working hard and being professional would keep my true identity from being revealed. I over-communicated, documented everything and did my best to hide my emotional side. This became my professional personality.
While there are definite overlaps between the professional persona I created and who I am with my friends and family, a few core pieces were at odds. At home, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I’m outspoken and hardheaded when I believe in something and I’m completely disorganized, flying by the seat of my pants most days.
I’ve always considered myself to be a genuine person. I respect people from all walks of life and treat everyone I meet with respect. Growing up in a rural area taught me that I can learn something from an illiterate farmhand as readily as an ivy-league educated CEO. I’ve been fortunate to interact with people from all ends of the informal/formal eduction spectrum, which has only reinforced my assumptions that everyone has something to contribute.
I’ve taken these strongly-held beliefs to every job I’ve had but it’s often been difficult to express my true opinions. As an HR professional, I wanted to advocate for the hourly employee when others in the room were disconnected from the challenges (living paycheck to paycheck, transportation issues, affordable housing) that someone from a different socioeconomic background may be facing. Sometimes I spoke up, but I didn’t fight as hard as I could for fear that I would lose status or be found out as someone who didn’t deserve to be in that room in the first place. This is my biggest professional shame.
I’m really good at recruitment. I’m skilled at getting people excited about opportunities, highlighting the benefits and figuring out what selling points will matter most to a candidate. But just because you’re good at something, doesn't mean it’s good to be doing it. The more time I spent as a corporate shill, convincing people to take jobs that were more than likely going to cause them undue stress, the more I struggled to sleep at night.
The last few years, I had grown weary. It became harder and harder to separate my personal feelings about how employees should be treated with the reality of my employers’ (and most corporations’) policies. It got to the point where my personal and professional identities were at odds and I needed to make a change or risk denigrating my closely held beliefs that all people have intrinsic value.
As I’m processing my career to this point and deciding my next steps, I’ve realized I’ve earned the right to be invited into any conference room and deserve to be there as much as the next person. More importantly, the real value I add is my perspective and the ability to communicate on behalf of those who are not in the room. I only wish I had realized this before now, maybe I could have mustered the confidence to voice my opinion and move the needle in favor of a more employee-centric workplace.
I now realize I have an obligation to correct where I went wrong in the past. I’m not sure what this looks like, but I’ve started down a rabbit hole of learning about who is, or more accurately how few people are, advocating for the bulk of our workforce—hourly, production-level, customer-facing, blue collar employees. I’m investigating how to improve their jobs today and in the future. I hope that by bringing awareness to these issues, I can reconcile with myself the many times I was silent when I should have spoken up.
Spending the last few months being the same Mollie professionally and personally has been a welcome adjustment. As I’m getting older, I do not have the patience or energy to stringently separate my work and home worlds. I’m enjoying the blurred lines and I recommend you take a look at how you segment your world and consider doing the same. It’s freeing.
