The Wounds of Getting Ahead
I am a polite person. At least in my head. But fate has landed me in the National Capital Region - a geography well-known for the lack of warmth its people carry. At first, I discounted it. I had heard the same for the natives of various countries I had visited, and been happily surprised. It’s just how polite you are, I thought. Why would someone be rude to me, if I’m nice to them? But boy, was I wrong.
My first week in a new company, and there were immediate attempts to show me who was boss. It worked. I shrunk into my corner. After a 9 month stint in the same company, I fully realized what people had been saying - most NCR people sucked (and if you’re going to come at me after reading this, I can only assume you’re one of them). From smiling to my face to bitching behind my back, from taking back what they’d said in a second to outright lying, I saw it all. But until the very end, I decided to stay nice. Every retort I framed was riddled with the words ‘please’ and ‘maybe’. While others’ tones were biting, mine became impersonal. And I thought I was taking the high route. Until I decided that I had been completely side-tracked.
In a rare display of self-preservation, my brain took the hint. At my next and current place of work, I improvised into a better (or worse) version. Recently, while addressing an email to someone far junior than me in the organization (and someone known to be particularly arrogant), I rephrased my last sentence from ‘could you please do this?’ to an assertive ‘please do this.’ We can leave out the fact that I went over that email three times to gauge if it seemed too ‘bossy’.
Being a woman in an authoritative position doesn’t help either. I am routinely subjected to microaggressions from men who are just uncomfortable around me. For some reason, most men seem to only respect authority from women if they’re their mothers or possess asymmetrical power.
A few months into this year, I decided that I had to get okay being disliked if I was ever to climb the corporate ladder. Being warm and friendly gets in the way of maintaining control, unless you can manipulate people. And that’s a sacrosanct rule I never intend to break - I am who I am. The sad part? This only applies to women. People are surprised and impressed by a man in power, who can also be friendly with his juniors. Much like people are impressed by boys who can cook. They don’t have to do it, so it’s a plus when they do. On the other hand, I as a woman, have to be badass to command any respect.
As a result of this, I now delete some of my pleases and could yous, I look people in the eye, and I refuse to complete their sentences to appear agreeable. I keep a straight face and operate on work mode only - all the time giving myself little wounds.
Every time I have a slight altercation at work, I create a papercut wound. Every time I have to be a little harsh, I deepen those wounds. Wounds that are reminders that I am not operating in a world where goodness is particularly rewarded. Wounds that make me question why women need to lose what makes them especially great leaders - warmth, empathy and a supportive attitude. Wounds that make me wonder if getting ahead is worth creating more people who suck.