I do not have to manage through the symptoms or emotional impact of the menopause.
I am not black.
I do not have a broad regional accent in a room full of sophisticated sounding speakers.
I do not have to think if being gay is something I can discuss at work or should instead hold close.
I have not been pestered or harassed just because I am a woman.
I have not been bullied in a previous role.
I do not have to think if I am wearing too much make-up or not enough. I do not have to think if my heel is too high.
I have not returned to work from maternity leave to find I am unnoticed in a world running too fast for me to keep up.
I have not had to consider if my promotion is compatible with my complicated childcare arrangements.
I have not had to worry that my imposter self-commentary demands that I am perfect every day.
I have not had to plan the children’s tea while creating a spreadsheet for my boss.
I have not had to think if starting a family is going to inconvenience my colleagues; or if not starting a family means that others judge me without a care for what I actually want or what I feel.
I have not arrived at work exhausted from a weekend fighting for support for my child with special educational needs or disability.
I do not carry the guilt of placing my elderly mum in a care home that looks after her needs but knowing it is not what she would have wanted.
We all carry a story. It is an all day, every day narrative that sits alongside every behaviour we reveal and every syllable we utter.
With all my advantages and privilege, and with all the blessings you can imagine, I am almost ashamed to say, that sometimes I can shrink into my own inadequacy and feel confidence and hope slip through my fingers.
We all carry a story that is never written on a CV.
Some things seem petty and go unmentioned because after all “isn’t it the same for everyone, and everyone else seems to cope.” And some things seem so big and existential that we cannot easily find the words or say them out loud.
I do not believe there is such a thing as an ordinary life or an average person. People are heroic, every day; but the story we carry can sometimes make us feel weak. Our day-to-day experiences, which we often hide in plain sight, sometimes scratch at our vulnerability. Our needs are often pushed to the bottom of the list as we prioritise the needs of others, or because we do not want to make a fuss. And yet we all matter, and each of us is far more important and more valuable than our story so far.
People come to work not just to pay the bills, but to be a version of themselves that reminds them of their individuality, unencumbered by what happens to them elsewhere and a place where they can flourish in their own right and in their own way. Work is a place where we should not be defined by life’s labels; a place where we are accepted for who we are, but where we also hope to grow and to make our difference.
We must not only respect this possibility, but we must relish helping each other be what we need to be.
I ask you therefore to create the space at work for you to listen to the stories and experiences of your colleagues. I ask you to share your own story too. None of us can thrive at work on our own, but before anything can be made better, we need to listen to each other and to create the time and place for connection, understanding and for appreciation.
When we know a little of what each of us copes with every day, being ourselves and growing into our potential can be a shared endeavour. The workplace at its best is not a high performance, super-competitive, dog-eat-dog sport. The workplace should instead welcome the opportunity to help us be the best version of ourselves because of our stories and not in spite of them.
Equality is a noble word, and equality of opportunity is a noble and aspirational ambition. It is one that should not be reduced to a tick-in-the-box policy or a generic training session. Let’s begin by honouring each individual, exploring their needs and their potential, and showing up for them on their best days and their worst.
We all carry a story. Let’s carry our stories together.
Take care. Paul xx
