MOURNING MY CORPORATE IDENTITY
I left the corporate world in 2016. A world I had known and flourished in for just under 20 years. I left because, despite the success, despite the pay check and executive title, I was unhappy. I can't say that I suffered through my corporate career, because I didn't. I met some amazing humans, visited some amazing places and worked on some amazing projects.
Sure, I was also frustrated with how the company was run at times, didn't agree with some strategic decisions and had little interest in the political melodrama that occurred - but hey, this is pretty standard stuff in the corporate arena.
By and large, my experience was positive. I had supportive bosses that gave me a ton of autonomy, teams that were eager to try new ideas and have some fun delivering on goals and I was promoted every 2-3 years, which gave me a new challenge to get excited about.
So why did I leave? Why was I unhappy?
Ultimately, I left because after years of trying to find purpose and meaning, I simply didn't. What offered me purpose at the beginning of my career was no longer enough in the latter years. I had proven what I was capable of. I checked off accomplishments I had defined for myself. Now, it was just another challenge, just another role, just another workday. I wanted more meaning in my work. I wanted to contribute to something bigger than my bank account and ego. I want to have a bigger impact and do something better aligned with my passions and values. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something else I was meant to be doing. After years of putting it off, I finally left.
And so began a process of mourning my corporate identity.
When I decided to leave, I had no idea what I would do next. I left committed to figuring it out and offered myself the time and space to do so.
This is when the unexpected ride of ups and downs, clarity and doubt, exploration and denial and ultimately the mourning of my corporate identity began. An identity I had placed undue value and attachment on. I had to learn who I was without it. I had to connect with the person I was underneath the title, the pay check and the company. Who was I void of all of this? What was left?
At first, I appreciated the space in my day. I was able to enjoy a coffee at a coffee shop in the morning, meet with friends for lunch and be there for my kids whenever they needed me. It was great for the first couple of weeks! Then my body started missing the speed, my brain started missing the stimulation and my ego started missing the validation.
I started doubting my decision. I started answering calls from recruiters and going on job interviews.
What the heck was going on? What was I doing? I had committed to giving myself time and space to find something new and here I was going on interviews for similar jobs. I went anyways.
As I entered the different corporate offices, I could feel my body restrict. I would feel a dark dull sensation in my belly. I looked around and all I could see were "busy" people -- their bodies present, but their minds entirely somewhere else. My friend and fellow coach, Lindsay Sukornyk, calls this the look of the "walking dead" in her TEDx Talk. I knew it well, because I was it for so many years - running from one meeting to the next, squeezing in one more call or one more email before engaging in the next thing...and then the next thing.
This is not a judgement. Let me remind you that for much of my corporate career, I was relatively happy and satisfied. I'm referring to the inner struggle I was experiencing. I wanted a change. I knew this was the time for it and yet all the old habits and ego-centric behaviours pulled me, and I followed them - unknowingly or knowingly - I followed them.
Until one interview - one interview had me stop picking up calls from recruiters once and for all.
I arrived a few minutes early for the interview. I sat waiting and watching - watching as people walked by noticing the expression on their faces. A smiling woman walked towards me and introduced herself, letting me know that the gentleman I was going to be meeting with was running late. She guided me to a boardroom with large windows with a beautiful view. She was very apologetic for making me wait and I got the feeling this speech was a normal part of her job. I reassured her I was fine and would enjoy the view while I waited.
The woman came back at least three more times to let me know that the gentleman was still tied up, each time more apologetic. About 30 minutes into my wait, another woman walked in and informed me that she would start the interview until her boss arrived. I could tell she was unprepared to conduct the interview, likely having been just told that it her was turn to stall the process. I found myself reassuring her.
Before long, the man I was was supposed to meet with walked in abruptly. He thanked the woman for starting the interview. let her know he would take it from here before starting to review my resume without a moment's breath. He looked at me, smiled and started asking me questions. I started answering them, but could tell that he wasn't fully present. I decided to ask him a few questions to try to bring him back into the room. He took a deep breath for the first time and started to share his story. He told me that he was a new dad - he had a son that was 9 months old - he never saw him and was missing important milestones, which he wasn't happy about. He shared that he had been on a business trip over the last few days, arrived late the prior night and had a 7am breakfast meeting. He ran from one thing to the next and while he enjoyed his job, the pace was getting to him. I listened attentively. Suddenly, something shifted in him as if he realized he was sharing too much - he looked at me and said: "And that's why we need someone like you to take some of the load off of the team. We know this is an issue and we want to change it." We continued with the interview.
When I left, it was clear to me that I would not take a corporate role and that I would not go on any more interviews.
I wasn't interested in "taking some of the load off". I was interested in finding something that would light me up, energize me and have me feel aligned with who I was meant to be. I knew the time was now. I finally chose to listen to all the signs I was getting and re-committed to finding a new way forward.
Despite the clarity, the next few months were hard. I had to shed my corporate identity. I had to connect with the person without the title or fancy job. I had to find value in not knowing. I had to get comfortable with discomfort.
Now looking back, it truly feels like I was ripping off the corporate armour...slowly and arduously. I can see now that I placed a lot of value on being busy, having people call on me for answers and the adrenalin hits from the constant bombardment of emails, phone calls and events.
My nervous system had to recalibrate. My ego had to detach itself from the external metrics I had worked so hard to achieve - and let me tell you, it did so kicking and screaming.
This was a difficult phase.
On my way to Costa Rica for a retreat, I found myself crying. My husband looked at me and asked what was wrong. I looked at him and replied: "Nothing. There is actually nothing wrong. I'm mourning the life I once knew. I'm making space for something new."
I cried so much of that retreat. The tears simply kept coming. They felt like a release, a letting go of something. There was no attached story to the tears, simply a release of emotion. I let the tears come. I learned to welcome them. I knew a shift was happening. I accepted this as part of the process. I was mourning my corporate identity, the person I made up myself to be. Later, I would also celebrate it. For now, I had to let it go, stand naked without the protection of the corporate armour and see what might emerge.
Warmly,
Lisa
Lisa is an Executive Coach, Founder & CEO of LDR Leadership Labs. For more from Lisa, join the LDR Leadership Community on LinkedIn at: www.linkedin.com/company/ldrleadershiplabs and sign up for the LDR Insiders Newsletter here.