I've always taken pride in my output - my work at school, my thesis at university, my extra-curriculum activities, my ballet exams, my curated social media posts...and even the way i iron a shirt. Therefore, when I was furloughed (Gemma...read rejection) as a result of the Coronovirus pandemic, it was unsurprising to me that the first emotion I felt was shame. Not panic about money, not thoughts about the team I manage - it was the sinking feeling of rejection. My ego prevailed and convinced my rational mind that a conversation was had in a room about my ability to perform, and ultimately the decision was made that I was a piece of fat worth cutting.
I must be mindful here to recognise that my mental health has been somewhat under fire of late, and so this latest blow felt like another dent in my already rusting armour. I know, pity party much - with families around the country and indeed around the world with no income and children to feed...I am frighteningly aware of the fortunate position I'm in...so forgive my trespasses into my own feelings for just a moment. Ever the control freak, I have given myself until precisely Midnight to wallow in this. The previous statement a half joke, I have found time in isolation forcing me to recognise my feelings and instead of reject or suppress them, I am choosing to face and address them (mainly because there is seemingly no other option, rather than some kind of spiritual awakening or epiphany). So here, I address my own prejudices against myself and challenge my own warped theories - borne only from years of self-conditioning, rather than founded in fact. I graduated in 2012, the tail end of the 2008 financial crisis when the job market was a shit show...akin to that of Harvey Weinstein's career. I studied English and did alright - even getting the highest score in the whole year for my dissertation - but getting a job or even an interview (that wasn't a group interview like a scene from Hunger Games) felt like a thankless task. I did a number of unpaid internships at companies whose morals sat somewhere in the neighbourhood of The Sun and The Daily Mail - a distinct memory of being tasked with sourcing images of 10 celebrities with the worse teeth I could find. These guys had a lawyer on speed dial, because the lies they spouted were hard and fast. Live by the standards you walk by...am I right? Not when you can’t afford lunch.
Whilst sharing a bed with my best friend in her 10 people strong house share, I remember thinking...work hard and you will be given a chance. Someone will roll the dice on you, and once you're in, with a role on your CV you'll be laughing. But it was tough - I boomeranged home as many of my university friends did to take bar jobs in my home town, longing for the life I had started to build at university. It was a graft, which meant when I eventually got my first job in Bristol I spent the first 6 months almost apologetic that they had to pay me, always second guessing my worth and value. Kind of waiting to be found out and asked to leave. That imposter syndrome didn't really fade when I moved to London for a new adventure - I have found myself leading workshops in Russia with a FTSE 100 company and almost laughing at myself from a far. Like, who let you in and why are these people listening to you. But I figured, just keep your head down and give them little reason not to keep you and see your input as valuable. Unfortunately, I, like a lot of people, attribute too high a percentage of who am I to what I do, how much I earn and being promoted to the next rung on the ladder. I'm not hugely proud of that admission, but I swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I will however conclude these words with a more profound (on my part) discovery - the anticipation of change and what I had always deemed 'rejection' is far worse than the actual thing. With it comes a moment of clarity - rather than catastrophising, I am recognising this change as part of my journey. A gift really...a moment to allow time to better understand myself and explore more creative opportunities. Who knows, maybe this is indeed the big break I’ve always been seeking.
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