“I hate promotions”
On the fear (and pain) of growth
The cell phone emanated a bright light. I heard a thousand stones fall mixing with the chillout song I was listening to. There was a new e-mail on my inbox coming from management. And we all knew how that could ruin the day (or the year). I pressed my eyelids closed, afraid of reading the message. I felt hot, cold, nauseous, on the verge of cardiac arrest. What had I done wrong?
I had been too good at my job. Another f****** promotion. I had already been selected for all the possible roles at the company: flying nanny, Japanese etiquette trained, onboard coach, brand ambassador, business class crew, A380 initial crew, and now, business class manager. All of these in the short period of 2 years. How I hated promotion.
Congratulations, you have been promoted to misery
Being promoted implied deep anxiety. I had to go back to academy, study hard, pass several exams, with excellence. Yes, anything less than excellence would get me in trouble. While at training, I had to be in survival mode the whole time. Any word, move or attitude could be interpreted the wrong way and get me a not so pleasant meeting with my performance manager. I always remember this girl who got called out at a training session because she hadn’t laughed at the trainer’s joke. That was the level of pressure we lived on. And as if I didn’t have enough, I would add a ton of personal pressure to the equation.
I always wanted to be the best at work. That fuelled my need of self-approval and got me to be admired by others. My experience at the airline was quite impressive – I was recognized through many positive reports from colleagues, managers and clients. That happened because I worked very hard, all the time. And because pleasing everybody was another full-time job on top of my already demanding full-time job.
My level of sadness was proportional to my promotions. The more I got promoted, the sadder I felt. The higher I climbed, the more visible I became. And the more visible I became, the more opportunities there were to get something wrong. There was never a time to enjoy what I had just achieved. Success felt exhausting. It didn’t allow me to stop and rest for a bit. Being on top of my game meant feeling my lowest.
Retroactive happiness
Looking back, I see many layers of unsolved issues. Someone who aspires solely to be the best never wants to feel vulnerable. However, you cannot be “the best”, if you aren’t put in a place of strict evaluation, of exposed vulnerability. I was living a paradox: I wanted to perform, to exceed expectations, but I couldn’t bear one more day of effort. I had acquired competence, but I was missing the emotional permission to feel competent. I was becoming better and better, while internally resetting myself to zero every time I was promoted.
I could have enjoyed the process and celebrated. I almost never did. As soon as I passed the final exam, I was shaking with the idea of applying it on the next flight, under scrutiny. That still didn’t prevent me from dropping a champagne bottle on a guest. Yes, a whole, full, glass bottle. The solution? Self-punishment, more practice, study and extra pressure. My accomplishments were never good enough for me to be the one enjoying a champagne bottle, although I was serving it to others daily.
I never once looked at promotions with curiosity. I was being given so many learning opportunities that would prove to be beneficial for the rest of my life. At the moment though, I saw learning as an imperative method to demonstrate my value to the world. I could name the origin and grapes of the wines in business class and maintain all the safety standards, while managing a different multinational team every day with grace. People working with me would tell me what a joy it was to work with such a friendly, positive and calm leader. Inside, I was none of that.
It’s easy to fall into the temptation of making it a double negative: criticising myself for the difficult position I was in. The truth is that I really did the best I could with what I had. I’m still amazed about all I conquered being just a scared kid, alone, living on the other side of the earth, doing a new job for the first time, at one of the most demanding industries and companies ever.
The difference is that I can now internalize that challenging period with pride. I’m applying retroactive happiness to it. I realize we can relive certain periods of our past with the wisdom that wasn’t available back then. I’m reframing my story to enhance my desire to be vulnerable in a productive way or, sometimes, just vulnerable and that’s enough.
Productivity doesn’t have to always be the goal. Sincere emotions are also a good life measurement. It’s now ok to feel fear, accomplishment, tiredness and pride at the same time. They tend to come together, for good or worse. Not so organized or sterile. But abundant, often unpredictable and even too genuine. Once you cross that line, it’s hard to go back to pretending full-time. Now I save that for occasions that demand it. Rawness is so much more interesting. E-mails with promotions too.