Have you ever had a conversation with someone and replayed it a million times in your head and thought of a million things you should have said? In the moment, silence was my only option, but now I feel like if I don't get these thoughts out of my head, I might crumble and die. And at the same time silence is probably still my best option when it comes to the person I had the actual conversation with. Hence, to the blog I go. Here is what I should have said:
If you were not going to give me this job--why did you tell me to apply for it? Why did you have consistent, ongoing conversations with me about what the needs were and what it would look like? Why did you tell me to think optimistically and picture myself in that position? Why did you force my mind to go there?
To be fair, you mentioned from the beginning that if I did not get the job, you had a plan for me. Now you want to have a conversation about what that will look like. You want to push me to a fundraiser role. The problem is--we should have been having that conversation all along. We should have had that conversation weeks ago. And now it just feels like we are speaking different languages.
I'm saying: "I would like to do xyz and I think it will lead to abc over time."
You are saying: "I want you to think again about what you want to do be doing. I think you should be doing abc."
I'm saying: "You've struggled to find someone to do abc. Maybe it's because xyz needs to come first."
You are saying: "Someone else can do xyz. You should do abc."
I'm saying: "I want to solve problems. I want to be a part of the solution. I want to have control."
You are saying: "Trust me. I see more in you than you do yourself. I don't have a history of clear direction--but there is one!"
And then you end the conversation with: "I saw your passion the past few weeks. I want to push you to be great, even if it's not here."
And I feel like screaming: "I am driven by a passion for the mission. The mission is NOT fund raising. The mission for me is making THIS organization the very best it can be. And what I am hearing is I am not vital to THIS mission. It's not necessary for me to grow HERE."
I understand you think I am a great person and you want to see me grow. I want to see this organization grow. I want to see our team be successful together. At the same time, I want to be an advocate for myself. I want to be recognized for the contribution I am making. I didn't think I cared about title, but the more I'm having conversations with external audiences, the more confused they are. They don't want to talk with the Grants Manager. They want to talk with someone in leadership.
I applied for this position because I am uniquely qualified to do it. (And because you told me to. Thank you for that.) I don't know that I would be qualified to do this job anywhere else, but I know I am qualified to do it here. I know this organization. I know this team. I also know best practices. I know what we are missing. And I feel like the team recognizes that too. That's what makes this even more humiliating. Everyone knows I wanted that position and now everyone will know I didn't get it. And they are all going to ask me why. And I don't have an answer. And that creates more uncertainty for everyone. And everyone assumes (even you) that this will be my sign to look for a new job. It would be insane for me to stay where I have no clear future. But I am currently stuck. I cannot take a pay decrease. I need the flexible schedule I have because Brendon is being given every opportunity in the universe from his employer--and will be travelling a lot more in the next year. I have several trips planned in the coming months that I fully intend to enjoy. And where would I go? What do I want? Because right now, I feel like I have no idea. That's terrifying.
I have been studying introversion lately. Because I keep feeling like you want to push me to speak up more and be something different--and I want to defend myself. I want to understand more clearly what my strengths actually are so I can build on those, rather than the strengths you think I should have.
I've learned that the real strength introverts have is noticing the tiny details and CARING. One description I've read for introverts is they are Highly Sensitive. And yes, that may mean emotional (am I crying as I write this? Absolutely.) but it also means highly sensitive to the needs of others, to what is being said without being said, to what is needed.
The problem is if an introvert does not care about something, like small talk, it's really hard to go outside your comfort zone and go after it. So whatever I do for work--I need to love it. I need to feel useful. I need to believe in it. I wish I could make you understand, but for now, I choose silence.
Comments
Post a Comment