The Freelancer's Manifesto or PTWSD and The Elephant in The Room

This post is kind of double-edged. On the one hand, I’m going to talk about my former employers and their toxic culture. On the other, I’m going to talk about myself and my part in developing a toxic culture. Yeah, because whenever you’re part of something toxic, the tango only ends when you step out. If you do…?

PTWSD and the Elephant

PTWSD is a term I coined. As far as I know, when I mentioned it in one of my posts, it didn’t exist. So I’m claiming it as my own. For me, it translates as Post Traumatic Workplace Stress Disorder. The Elephant in the room, maybe you’ve guessed, is yours truly.?

I got PTWSD in every workplace I’ve ever been employed, and I’ve been the elephant in the room in all of them. No exception. It started when I was in college. If you’ve been watching this space for long enough, you already know I’m something of an aficionado of English. Naturally, I got recommended for some (odd) jobs. Oddly enough, one of them entailed teaching English to preschoolers.?

How it all started

Vladdy boy was only 20, if I recall correctly, and fancied himself an up-and-coming professional. He printed out his CV, put on his best jacket and went to the interview all starry eyed and optimistic. This was eight to nine years ago, so you’ll excuse the narrator for embellishing some parts and diminishing others. Here’s how I remember it happening:

I stepped into his office. Small space, filled by a huge ego. I could feel it seeping. Almost wanted to check if my shoes were still dry. Shoes… who am I kidding, I was wearing sneakers. First wrong move :)).?

Vlad: Mrs T from UPG sent me here.?

Little did I know, this line, particularly, cost me the whole job.?

Interviewer: Honestly? You surely mean Professor Associate Mrs T sent you, right??

My ass should have left the chair that moment. Authority and people calling themselves made up names, when we’re all actually spiffy apes with less hair, always made me hurl.?He proceeds to demolish me and my whole world-view, especially on education. It matters not.

Long story short, he did not like my view on education. I wanted to treat those little kids like humans first. He wanted to treat them as future Harvard graduates.

Back to the rest of my life

Initially, I wanted to make this post about trashing my employers. For making me feel different and like a freak. You know what? Whatever they did, they did because they believed in it. I saw it as monstrous, but I still suckled at the tit of infamy, so who am I to judge? I could have been turning tricks in a Lidl parking lot. Instead, I chose a comfy office job, a fat pay cheque and ducking up my nerves.?

All in all, that’s why I’m a freelancer. I could never fit in. Sure, colleagues remember me fondly, even higher-ups, when I didn’t get on their nerves with my opinions and devil may care attitude. Heck, a former employer even recommended me as an entertainer for one of his team buildings. Others, as a writer. People in old jobs always said they would work with me again: you’re an asset, and you will be missed, keeps ringing in my ears. Every god-damn time. They weren’t kidding, either. I was never let go. Always asked to stay, a bump in salary most of the time a possibility. But when the shit hit the fan, I always left for my well-being.?

I always cared about the quality of my work and gave it my best. At the same time, I can hardly fold my backbone. I see something as inappropriate, I call it out. It’s not always appreciated.??

The pledge

I’m not going to change the world. Some people will still choose to be bosses, not leaders. I can only choose to learn from that, and then let it go. I keep on rambling about that, it hurts me, not them.?

Vlad’s not going back to a job any time soon. Maybe for the right leader. I saw other freelancers fantasize about going back to a full time job. Some everyday (their own words). Not me, baby. I fought for my freedom, I’m balls to the wall on this one. There’s no going back for me.?

My post (intended as a post, ended up being an article) offended you? Good. Read my headline again. Then pick a number and get in line for not working with me. Careful, the line stretches around the block. The other line, grows longer by the day, too.?

P.S. There will be people who identify with what I wrote. Maybe they won’t like my article outright. I understand. I don’t know their circumstances, so I won’t judge. Just know you’re not alone. I count on finding each other and working together. And rocking it. I’ll keep my trunk up high. You’ll spot me.?