To survive the corporate world, you might have spent a long time perfecting a certain persona, like a tough exterior that helped you navigate politics and climb career ladders. You learned to push down your feelings and keep vulnerability at bay, which kept you safe. But a downside that you may have noticed recently: it’s following you home.
At the dinner table you try hard to code switch so that you don’t treat your family like an underperforming product team. You might get feedback from friends and family that your edge is showing. That can ring alarm bells, and that’s the moment that people often come to me, saying, “I don’t like myself anymore.”
So today we’ll look at how that happens, and why being around people who like things might be the antidote.
What the Corporate Critique Culture Does to You
Some of the meanest, most unforgiving corporate employees I’ve known are total softies under their tough shells. They love their kids and are wildly creative. But all the things they like about themselves have to take a back seat when they log on to work.
It isn’t a surprise. Many corporate cultures, even as they espouse values about inclusion and empathy, reward sharp elbows instead. Company values are constantly at odds with incentive models. You work in a culture of correction, of people saying “well, actually” and getting promoted for it. You learn to play the game, and that game hardens you.
Telling yourself to be nicer doesn’t work, because you still have to operate in your work environment, at least until you’re ready to get out of there. And as we’ve covered before, leaving will be easier if something pulls you out rather than waiting for something to push you.
Creating those opportunities to be pulled toward something requires you to get acquainted with multiple somethings.
The Writing Teacher’s Assignment
My writing teacher recently said something that stuck with me: find the weirdest part of yourself and lean hard into it. The first step is to identify what that might be, which can feel challenging after years of your work persona merging with your identity. You could be out at parties with your furrowed brow and habit of correcting people without even realizing it. But below all that is a collection of topics and interests that you could nerd out on for a long time.
Is it Legos? Shoe design from the 1800s? BTS? Whenever I think about one of my arcane interests and my inner critic pops in to say, “no one else cares about that,” I remind myself that there are very likely websites, books, and conferences dedicated to that very thing.
So you have your weird interest or activity. What if you found other people who love that same weird thing and you got in a room together?
The Room Full of Superfans
Last year, I found out that my favorite band from the 90s, Soul Coughing, was planning a reunion tour. They would be playing together for the first time in 25 years. I bought tickets in the first minute they went on sale. The band wasn’t in the top 40, but its fans are dedicated nerdy musician types. Even standing in line to get into the venue was part of the event, everyone looking at each other like, “you get it.”
Being in a room full of superfans was electrifying, and I bonded with strangers as we belted out every word to every song together. We flung love at the band and they loved us back. Everyone was overjoyed to be there. And that night, we all remembered that we are people who can love things.
There is power in this dynamic. Plonking yourself in the middle of joy, becoming part of it, can change your wiring. It can open you up to more options than keeping that stiff armor on all the time.
What If You’re Not Sure What You Love Yet
But I don’t know what I love! You might be hollering. There’s nothing weird about me that I can lean into! That’s ok. Even mild curiosity is enough to get you in a room. Besides, finding your particular band of weirdos will take some experimenting. Your most reliable piece of information is how you feel not when you get there, but when you leave.
One friend of mine attends a weekly crafting meetup at a women’s sports bar. People bring their knitting or scrapbooks, they talk about hockey, and work on their projects. My friend surrounds herself on a regular basis with people who also really want to be there and who are trying to get better at something. Show up enough times and it starts to feel like a community.
A caution, for my more literal friends: your kid’s soccer game doesn’t count. Nor does the random group of people lifting weights at your gym. You are keeping an eye out for an intentional community that does or discusses a specific thing. A hiking group, French language conversation meetup, board game night at a bar. Meetup.com can give you some ideas.
These experiments will need a bit of your time, and it starts with casting a wide net. If you can’t think of what you like right now, ask your friends what they are into. Or think back to what you used to like before work devoured your personality.
This means you will also need to leave your house. Finding a group online is ok if that’s your only option, but being in physical space with other people who love things is hard to beat.
The Proof This Gives You
Why does any of this matter if it doesn’t seem related to a future career? You need proof that you can want things that have nothing to do with your job. Proof that you still like things, that you can have fun, that you can connect with people over something that may sound irrelevant to one person but that has an enthusiastic community around it.
So what’s the weird thing about you? You probably already know. It’s more fun to live in a world near people who like things.
