It's Only Banter

I laughed nervously and sipped my drink. The hairs on the back of my neck were raised, I could feel my throat closing up, and my hands were so sweaty the Peroni bottle nearly slipped from my grip.

“Just be cool Ames, it’s only banter, it’s fine”, I told myself. It’s only Friday drinks, for fucks sake.

It wasn’t fine. I felt wildly uncomfortable. And then it happened – the self-deprecating diarrhoea. I couldn’t help it.

“Haha, oh no, I mean, I don’t really understand any of it. I mainly just turn up and clean up the empty pizza boxes. The Meet-Ups would be fine without me. Haha.”

Dead stares. Blank silence. Smirks and glances away. They’d done it again – beaten me into submission via non-verbal communication alone. Fucking hell, why was I so weak? I didn’t have this problem with the tech community. They seemed to like me. Invited me out, listened to me, laughed and hugged me goodbye. It was the safest place I’d known for a long time. So why was I perceived as so problematic at work? I easily brought in the most jobs, I brought in lots of marketing and new revenue channels, I never wrapped my arms around my market; I shared my knowledge and contacts freely and happily.

Thoroughly brow beaten and feeling genuinely terrible about myself, I turned up at my Dad’s house looking like I’d already ordered the bunting for my pity party and was fully planning a firework display in the shape of “YOU’RE SO SHIT EVEN YOUR IMPOSTER SYNDROME ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH”.

He opened the door, took one look at me, and laughed.  

“Ah. That bad I see.” He sighed. “Come in flower. Ju’s got the tea on”

After I’d spent two hours persuading them everything was okay and hey you know this was the industry I’d chosen and that I was a Big Girl capable of Looking After Myself – (all bollocks, of course) I eventually acquiesced to their superior knowledge and experience of the human condition and admitted what had been going on.

When I explained there were more of them than me and I felt very small, he eyed me steadily from the armchair. I hid behind my hair and sank back into the sofa, wrapping myself even more tightly in the blanket, feeling incredibly sorry for myself and about 7 years old.

A few minutes passed and neither of us said anything.

“Ames. It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”

Now, had I have realised my Dad was a good few Remy Martins’ down and casually tossing Mark Twain quotes out like they were playing cards at a poker table, I possibly wouldn’t have taken his words quite so literally. However, all the emotions live in the child, and the brain does funny things to you when you are feeling vulnerable and attacked.

So the following Monday morning, I Reacted. I've not looked back. 

The point I’m trying to make is this – if you’re in a role, a company, working for a Manager, in a team, whatever. If you have a nagging sense that things just Aren’t Right, and you’re putting a brave face on because the salary is Good and the prospects are What You Want, but you know in yourself that it’s just not cricket, bollocks to it. Jack it in. Seriously, after you’ve finished reading this – count to ten and just do it. I don’t consider this advice irresponsible because the people that identify 100% with what I’ve described have simply been waiting for permission, and the people that don’t will find this either wryly amusing or tediously self-indulgent (and therefore won’t act).

So this is me giving you permission. If you are miserable, if your co-workers just aren’t playing nice, if you genuinely consider how much time off work you could take if you broke your ankle, then I hereby give you permission to do it. Just calmly and politely explain that you’re quite simply not doing this anymore. You are someone’s wife, someone’s son, someone’s Mother, and frankly – you deserve better.

If you work in tech in Manchester, I faithfully promise you that you stand a good chance of not being on the market for long.

I believe in you. I did it, and it was the best thing I ever did for my mental health, and the peace of mind for my family.

I give you permission and I believe in you.