In 2015, I volunteered to be an unpaid advisor to a close friend planning her startup.
Our working relationship started smoothly, and after she got funding, she asked me to freelance as a remote consultant. It was then that I started to notice some yellow flags here and there, which eventually turned into bright red ones. And I suppose that’s the insidious nature of these kinds of relationships; the flags are never really obvious at first. My intuition is dormant, hibernating in a cave of wishful thinking.
A boyfriend I had at the time noted that half of my "job" was acting like her therapist. I was helping her decide what to do about a contractor who wasn't doing what she wanted or listening to how an employee hurt her deeply by talking behind her back. I would spend most of those calls convincing her that things like suing ex-employees for gossip are not the best use of company resources.
A boyfriend I had at the time noted that half of my "job" was acting like her therapist.
Today, I would have set the tone for expectations and communication, early on. I allowed work conversations to become enmeshed with personal check-ins because I was unpaid, at first. It felt casual. Keeping work and personal situations separate is a boundary I know I can uphold when it comes to me. But I'm not spiritually fit, I have a problem with boundaries when people ask things of me. I can never guarantee that the person I am working with and I are aligned on core values around work, ethics, and respect. In hindsight, my expectations of her work values were fueling my resentment - and yet I never defined what those values really were from the start of our working relationship.
When I moved back to NYC, she asked me to run the company operations as a full time salaried employee. By this time, the flags had turned orange, but they were still not enough to justify leaving. Here was an opportunity to work with someone I considered a friend, and the offer was a good one. During my first week on premises, it became evident that the company had a lot of drama going on. It was chaotic, tense, and highly dysfunctional. The priorities changed depending on her mood, which left employees confused about what they should be working on. There was usually a cycle of elation, followed by obsessive and manic fixations, like organizing drawers or creating redundant spreadsheets, indignant rage, and finally an emotional breakdown. My mothering would enter from the left stage right on cue, and the beast would be tamed. For a few days, we could all breathe a little easier. She once told me “I made her feel safe”. For an Al Anon like me, these words are like a hook that embeds as deeply as any opiate.
During my first week on premises, it became evident that the company had a lot of drama going on. It was chaotic, tense, and highly dysfunctional.
What I would have done today: Probationary trials can be a great option when starting a new job that doesn't seem to be giving you clear signals of success. It's a practical way to test out the employment arrangement and make sure it works. It took me a week to realize the dynamic was dysfunctional, but I was too invested in fear to leave. It turned out that the cave of wishful thinking was really a cave of fear. Throughout my life, I have developed certain defense mechanisms. When I felt threatened, I jumped into justification, denial, self-righteousness, or guilt because I didn't want to admit I was scared. Somewhere in my understanding, I came to the conclusion that if I am afraid, I’m vulnerable, I am imperfect, and I am flawed.
I have a program that gives me options. Here I felt stuck with only two choices - stay or go. Getting quiet and practicing the Third Step might have helped me come up with the trial suggestion.
In any work blog or article about an abusive workplace, you'll see plenty of fingers pointing at the toxic culprit, but for every one finger I’ve pointed, there were 4 pointing right back at me. I ignored red flags because I didn't want to risk it not working out. This goes back to my fear. The fear of not finding another job that pays as well, the fear of failure, or the fear of hurting someone I considered a friend. The fear of giving up, rooted in my ego's belief that I am tough and can handle hard situations.
Today, I would have talked to my sponsor about every yellow, orange, and red flag I saw, as well as sought counsel from people in the program who had careers that were clear, purposeful, and spiritually sober. Having been open to others' wisdom would have made making a decision less rooted in fear easier. To me, courage means taking the next right action before making a decision based on self-interest - and here is where I see the change - a change in my perspective; a change in my choices.
M@anon.coach