It’s been about three years that I’ve been retired from my job as a chief growth officer for a global advertising agency and it’s just occurring to me now what a huge transition this is in my life. My job was all-consuming eating up many of the working hours of my day and then some. My job was something I took a great deal of pride in. In addition to being chief growth officer I was also responsible for managing the Pittsburgh office and the 40+ people who worked there. This might have been the part of my job I loved the most. Knowing theses folks relied on me to protect them and look out for their best interests was something I took great pride in.
I loved solving problems for these folks knowing they relied upon me to make things happen for them. I was often told I was one of the best bosses these folks have ever had mainly because I made folks feel protected and taken care of. Knowing I would fight for my people made them feel secure and taken care of. A small office of 40+ folks in Pittsburgh was easy to overlook in such a behemoth of an organization as Publicis, the world-wide agency for which I worked. I took my responsibility of taking care of my ragtag little group of folks who did some of the best work the agency produced and it showed.
When it became necessary for me to medically retire I felt like I had lost a limb. Such a huge part of my life all of the sudden went poof. Gone. Suddenly a giant chunk of my identity was gone. Who was I if I wasn’t the protector of my people? Who was I if I was no longer on the Executive Committee of this giant organization running such a vital part of the advertising agency as agency growth? Who was I without being the staunch advocate of agency relations with the senior-most clients in our local book of business? No answers presented themselves. Now the only person relying on me for protection and advocacy was me.
I’m exploring the problem with Dr. KB my therapist but as with all big identity problems the only answer is time. How frustrating is that? I spent most of my adult life in the role of global ad executive and it’s been only three years that I’ve been stripped of my title and position. Who wouldn’t expect to have some struggle and angst associated with such a huge loss? It’s easy for me to forget that it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. The stress of so much responsibility was significant, causing me more than a few sleepless nights. There was more to Executive Committee meetings than business as usual. More often than not I found myself in the midst of one conflict or another pitting my small ragtag little office against the needs of the giant mother ship. The stress these conflicts created for me was significant, causing more than one sleepless night. Those are the times I don’t miss. I don’t miss feeling like I’m letting people down.Being a small part of such a large organization had a ton of inherent challenges. Always being under threat of being forgotten or deemed unnecessary made for a difficult day-to-day existence.
So why do I miss this job so much now? I loved leaving the stress behind. I loved leaving the constant threat of being shut down behind. I loved leaving the constant conflict behind – all of the sleepless nights of worry went poof and were gone. However, there loomed the day that came all too soon and that was the day I lost my giant executive salary. I have never been a saver. I found use for every dime I made. Whether for myself and my house or to help out family or friends who found themselves in a jam. Losing my paycheck was catastrophic for me. Living on disability from Social Security and from my corporate disability policy is tough. Going from being paid handsomely every two weeks to being paid a third of my former salary monthly is a rude awakening to say the least.
Identity associated with a corporate position is fleeting. There’s so much more to me than that executive person I used to be but discovering who that is will require work. Dr. KB seems to be up for the task. It’s daunting for me to face re-invention yet again but truly what choice do I have? I’ve been here so many times before. I know I can do it. I also know how difficult it is. And there you have it. Another beginning.
Source: bethybrightanddark.com