“I think sometimes people hang around at jobs too long, reliving childhood traumas because it feels comfortable. “Maybe it wasn’t those exact words, but I put down that sentiment. His awkward look of surprise clued me in that I chose inappropriate happy-hour small talk. But, seriously, who wants to talk about the weather or politics?
Somehow talking about the idea of how we replay childhood emotional pain at work is taboo. Like we need to split ourselves: broken at home; well-adjusted at work. Thanks to Gabor Mate’s work, I recognized this pattern of bringing my lonely and emotionally barren childhood to marriage. How does that part of me not show up at work, too?
Except, people with fucked up childhoods often day camp in toxic workplaces. The more well-adjusted campers, who know their worth, quickly recognize the dysfunction and GTFO—those accustomed to feeling disempowered, unseen, and unheard, we lock in for the irrational nostalgic trip.
Maybe, unconsciously, we’re still desperately seeking validation. All the while, we ruminate on the ick. Maybe we pick workplace nemesis based on similarity to those who wounded us in our childhood. Somehow our nemesis choice often seems irrational to others. Like, “Seriously? That benign jerk has you reacting like that?”
I don’t know if that is what anyone wants from a person in charge, but it’s probably not a moody, sullen, and a poor communicator. When I stare at that person, my mind races through all the ways I could have disappointed them.
Suddenly, I become the seven-year-old version of myself who believes she’s a burden to other people with her asks, sensitivities, and presence. A people pleaser in training. As I write this, I want to hug that little girl. But, honestly, a little self-compassion would be a total win for someone who’s erroneously tried to self-judge her way to wholeness for ever and ever.
“Life is too short to work for assholes” is a common saying, but those of us who’ve had tough starts know it’s not that simple. We stick around in bad jobs because they feel familiar, replaying our old childhood dramas. It’s high time we talked about this openly, even if it’s a bit uncomfortable.
Let’s break the silence. Starting these tough conversations can help us heal and move forward.
Poet Yung Pueblo says it best.
heal yourself,
yung pueblo, inward
not just so you can thrive
but to ensure that people
who cross your path in the future
are safer from harm