As someone who identifies first and foremost as a ‘feeler’ I’m often beleaguered by my penchant for processing and assessing emotions, interactions, and the fragility of feelings. Maybe those skills, tied to empathy have made me effective in my therapist and counselor roles, but when applied to my own life, they can be exhausting and ineffective.
I had a mentor years ago who encouraged me to use guided imagery to sort out complex issues. I confess – it’s a self-care skill that’s become dusty and rusty from neglect, because it requires a chunk of energy to creatively deploy my shadow strengths of analysis and logic. The practice itself is simple – it’s akin to a meditation ritual – an opportunity for enlightenment as I step back, vs. lean in…seeking insight.
How so, you say? I imagine a massive wood table…a long, rectangular behemoth with heavy upholstered dining chairs all around. Rather than gravitate to my usual spot, I visualize myself scooting over to a new chair; one that might provide a different view, a fresh perspective from which to reflect upon my malaise. Last week? I needed to deploy this self-care ritual because of an incident I couldn’t get out of my head. Or heart. Read on and I’ll explain how ‘bad ROI – return on investment’ ideology – brought clarity. Who would’ve thunk it – a finance term flew in to provide insight. Stick with me. 😉
In my personal blog recently I wrote about a person who’s experiencing the loss of a friend group…workplace friends. It’s tricky business when you’re the ‘helper’ and the person who sits before you expresses feelings you’re familiar with, in a firsthand, head/heart kind of way. We’re taught to be objective, to monitor our own responses, in order to focus on the client and I’ve become quite practiced at the skill. Just the same, when the session concludes, helping types need to work out the feelings that can sometimes rise to the surface.
The two experiences – one professional, the other entirely personal – had commonalities; the misgivings and uncertainties about ever-changing relationships, including the loss of friendships when workplace realities shift the dynamic.
My client interaction summoned my own suite of unsettled feelings from a recent social situation with former colleagues and friends. I looked forward to catching up with dear ones and I was unprepared for a dynamic of indifference from people I’d held in high regard. Considered more than work buddies…I thought we were friends.
Whenever a group of former colleagues gather, there’s a customary bit of ‘shop talk’ (often about authority figures, hierarchy, and the ceremonial bashing of bad leaders). I’m still working through some misgivings about a few of the unethical bombshells I witnessed, driving me to explore new opportunities. I’d had enough and planned my escape. But as is the case with nasty business of all sorts, “the truth” that’s left behind is often a carefully curated secret when there are whispers of leadership impropriety.
The feelings that bubbled up for me were unexpected…and I wished I’d left my overly attuned, intuitive self at home because I wasn’t prepared for the ‘pick ups’ of duplicity that were headed my way. My default demeanor of optimism did little to protect me as I experienced a disappointing “ROI” – return on my investment – of caring and kindness – while visiting with former colleagues.
I was aware I had knowledge others did not when the conversation turned to on-going workplace drama and gossip…much of the same madness I said goodbye to. When I offered a carefully worded, veiled response to a pointed question, indicating there’s more to a story than they knew, I witnessed a nearly imperceptible eyeroll and smirk, conveying disbelief. Nearly imperceptible. I doubt anyone else at the table caught the exchange between the two people seated across from me, but I got it. What shocked me the most was the boldness. Did they think I was incapable of interpreting their scoffing attitude and sass as a condemnation, as contempt?
But hear me clearly – it was a millisecond of a moment. A flash and both recovered, their faces returning to their masks of false friendship, performative allegiance. I’m pretty good at cloaking my reactions when necessary so I smiled when they looked at me. They knew I “saw” their wordless exchange – followed by nervous glances at one another, with eyes cast down. Yes, I saw – and I “heard”. This from two people I regarded as dear, former colleagues. As friends.
I get it. When you’re no longer a player on the field, the game changes and allegiances shift. But it stings, just the same. If we’re lucky, some former colleagues will retain the status of ‘forever friends’ but others will fade away. If you were useful as an ally while you were in their milieu, you served a purpose, but when the utility wanes, so might the remnants of friendship.
My guided imagery and reflection allowed me to resolve the pain by stepping outside the experience and examining the scenario from a fresh vantage point…a different seat at the table. As much as I was overwhelmed by the blatant indifference I experienced, I reminded myself that people pass through our lives and clinging to memories of ‘good times’ when they’ve faded…and are eclipsed by present day disappointments is foolish and for me, self-destructive.
Camus’ thoughts on the topic of friendship are both somber and liberating: … “I expect less than they can actually give”. It’s a stark dose of realism that’s oddly comforting. The gift of retaining friends who will “stay close silently” is a treasure, a miracle, a true grace. I’m grateful; I have friends who embody those traits. As for the others, the former friends? I’m letting some of you go, without malice. I wish you well. I may have overly invested in you, but I can look at the friendship balance sheet anew, consider the ROI of continuing to care and proceed accordingly. Now that I know, I can let you go.
-Vicki ❤
P.S. If you have a moment for some fatherly wisdom…take a peek at my post on Victoria Ponders this morning. What a gift it was to have such a smart, insightful father, especially when he “borrowed from Buddha”. Hugs to you…from both of us!
The Heart of the Matter 
I’m gobsmacked by this story, most especially by the wisdom gained through the pain of your experience. You bring to mind the gratitude that I have for the few “silent” friends who have remained true throughout my lifetime—who are always there no matter how much time has passed without communication. What a blessing they are—and what a blessing you are to those of us who learn through your experience which you so willingly share. Thank you dear Vicki. You deserve friends who treasure the you that you are.
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Oh my, Julia. “Thank you” feels so lacking…but thank you, just the same, for your beautiful comment. This was a tough one to write…I feel pretty bare and exposed…but the fact that I’m not alone and I see others struggling with the same issues gives me courage. And reminders from friends like you — that our more “silent” friends are to be treasured, too, is such a lovely thing to hear. xo to you for your big, big heart! 💕💕💕
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I’m glad you had a quick rebound that put you in a better place, Vicki. In addition to your experience with these particular friends, the person who departs sometimes falls into the category of “traitor,” especially when they were formerly seen as an “ally” in “the good fight.” This is similar to the loss of someone you love in a breakup. Of course, I don’t have any certainty that this applies to the situation you described. In any case, you came out whole. That’s all that matters.
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I appreciate your perceptiveness, Dr. Stein. You’re spot-on! I didn’t want to go into details, but you picked up the undercurrent…exactly. Thank you so much for your kind comment. It’s taken a bit to put the pieces together, but yes…I’m feeling whole and ever-so-much lighter. And… I’m grateful to you for your insightfulness. 🥰
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I feel your pain with this one Vicki. You’re right, it’s difficult when our workplaces friends turn out to be less long-lasting than we hope or expect. Investing a lot of ourselves and seeing its not returned is hurtful. I suspect that while we move on, and as you say, escaped the problems and bad culture (and bad leadership), your former colleagues are still there, still living it and are somewhat resentful that you escaped.
I agree we need to look after ourselves when our friends let us down, leaving us sometimes feeling betrayed, or we could run the risk of locking out new friends and from my observations, that would-be a very bad thing for the world if we lost friendly Vicki.
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Brenda…you are so smart. Yes — problems and bad culture/leadership remain…just as you said and, in that case, it may be less about me, more about them/allegiances…but just the same…I’m glad I’ve made peace with all of it. I appreciate my friends in the blogging world who can relate and provide thoughtful insights. Cheers to you! 😘
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Yes Brenda, thinking the same thing. Some make it out…others remain stuck.
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Vicki, first off, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I can empathize, as I’ve always been the type to (perhaps naively) assume everyone had the best of intentions. (I’m starting to think the members of this community have bigger hearts than the average populous.💗💗💗)
The idea of the ROI balance sheet is brilliant… rather than look back with contempt, simply recognizing that you’re not seeing the returns you’d like and choosing to change the vehicle. I’ll need to keep that in mind for myself in the future. Letting go of low-ROI friends is one of the hardest and most heartbreaking things, but it seems that shifting from an emotional to an analytical approach may help.
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Thank you, Erin, for seeing that. Exactly! I needed to pivot away from my comfy, “feeling” self to get the perspective I lacked. And gosh – you are right-on about big hearted blogging friends. I feel that so much. Thank you for being YOU. ❤️🥰❤️
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I call these ‘situational friendships’ or friendships of convenience. I could write a series of posts based on my experiences. I am sorry you had to witness this unsettling reality, but am so thankful you had the wisdom to step outside the fray and use your skills to assess the situation in such a healthy manner. Sometimes we must ‘step out to step up’.
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Wow…thank you, Maggie. Yes, yes! “Situational” indeed…and that makes it easier to accept the fact that they may not be everlasting. And your point about stepping away…and out…to step up and see clearly? Yes! But…I’m sorry to hear you’ve been in the same boat…a “series of posts”, eh? But I suspect you’ve learned something from each to make you the insightful person that you are now. Big smiles to you! 😘
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“For everything there is a season…”
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Yes, yes. 💕
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Oh boy, I think I might have to borrow at seat at your dining room table so I can practice your wise way of getting perspective. So sorry about the eye roll and the friends who reveal themselves as less than. It brings up for me lessons from my past where I learned that those in leadership positions very rarely get the empathy of those below them in the hierarchy. And that when things get messy and you are smart enough to leave, those left behind sometimes turn their resentment into its own narrative.
But I love how wisely and beautifully you handle life and then write about it so we can benefit too. Instead of pushing those feelings aside when they arise, just look at them from a different seat! Amazing, Vicki! ❤ ❤ ❤
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Sure thing…there’s always room for you at my imaginary table, Wynne — wait — that didn’t sound quite right. 😉There’s room for you at ANY table. LOL!
Thank you for your thoughtful comment…I think eye-rolling is a trigger behavior for me…maybe from parenting a teenager and surviving it? 😉 And I love your thought about ‘resentment becoming its own narrative’. Beautifully put. Most of all, thank you for always offering wisdom and encouragement to return to meditation to work out the crapola. It works…it just works. xo, dear one! 💕
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It works indeed! And I’m laughing about parenting a teenager. Oh boy – I have my work cut out for me! 🙂 ❤
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Oh, you’ll sail through marvelously. I just know it. xo! 🥰
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Thank goodness one of us does! 🙂
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I have ZERO doubts. You’ll see, you’ll see. 💕💕💕
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Those “friends” let their true faces show. You had the perception to see who they really are and now can let them go.
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I love how you expressed that so perfectly, so simply, Elizabeth — ‘showing their true faces’. Wow — and yes, yes. Thank you for reading…and thank you for sharing that. 💕
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Vicki, I am mired in computer issues at the moment so please know I have read and empathize with this post and your emotional responses. I love all the input so far, we have such wise readers her at HoTM! My one typing finger (doing this on my phone) is now cramping so forgive my abbreviated response today, but I so get the message 💕
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Oh my goodness…I’m so sorry you’re having tech issues. Nothing drives me battier than that…I feel so helpless…but hey — look at you — no one would ever know you’re typing with one finger…on your phone! Go, Deb! I’m usually all thumbs if that’s my situation. Impressive!
And I love that you can empathize with my post. It was so much fun — in that quirky way that I enjoy – to see your post yesterday about workplace conundrums, thinking about your response, your purpose – knowing that I was going to follow you with my own story. I love when that happens, even when the topics are challenging. Xo to you — and good luck with your computer snafus…sending good thoughts your way! 🥰🥰🥰
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LOVED THIS – “The gift of retaining friends who will “stay close silently” is a treasure, a miracle, a true grace. I’m grateful; I have friends who embody those traits. As for the others, the former friends? I’m letting some of you go, without malice. I wish you well. I may have overly invested in you, but I can look at the friendship balance sheet anew, consider the ROI of continuing to care and proceed accordingly. Now that I know, I can let you go.”
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You are so generous with your praise, Mary! Thank you for letting me know this hit a note of recognition for you…it means a lot. Hugs and big smiles to you! 🥰
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I’m often surprised at the similarities I see in the bits of yourself that you share and my own life, Vicki. I just read the post on your Dad and oh, I recognized my own in the telling (🙏💕). And like you, I “witness the nearly imperceptible” body language ALL the time, even though I rarely let on. After decades of hanging onto every work contract I ever had quite literally by my fingernails (I was always paid through grant funding, which I applied for and then coordinated), at the tail-end of my career, I finally got ‘THE’ promotion to an administrative position that I could never have hoped for in the years I was fighting so hard just to put food on the table. I had (or thought I did) so many friends there. And I came into that final job with a “let’s fix this” mindset that only the person who started at the bottom can ever really ‘get’. Over a few years, I watched in utter disbelief as entire departments worked against me and people I had always considered friends treated me like the enemy. It was devastating. I generally like most people; I certainly like ‘being liked’ but I no longer make it my mission to be liked. I am actually very, very discerning about who I let in, now. I LOVED your table imagery! I often take a mental ‘step back’ from a person so I can try to discern what’s REALLY going on with them. It helps me empathize, but it also gives me some distance if I am not the person meant to help them. After I burned out (from that last ‘dream job’) I had to learn that I only have so much to give. Thank you, Vicky: I really appreciated hearing your perspective. And oh, I am sorry that you had to experience that…😔💕
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Patti — I am so grateful to you for sharing your story. I connect — SO MUCH with what you said here: …”I came into that final job with a “let’s fix this” mindset that only the person who started at the bottom can ever really ‘get’. Over a few years, I watched in utter disbelief as entire departments worked against me and people I had always considered friends treated me like the enemy.”
While it doesn’t make me happy to know we’ve been in the same sorrowful boat, I think your keen assessment of what it’s like to have been a colleague, compadre and then the administrator is spot-on. You’re seen, understandably, in a new light — bigger, broader responsibilities – but I have no doubt you carried yourself forward with heart and sensitivity — expecting camaraderie in accomplishing shared goals.
The fact that you’re more careful now (perhaps in all areas of your life, which is true for me) is an absolute connecting point for us. Despite the shared drama/trauma and painful experiences, a bright spot for me is finding you right here – as a blogging friend. What a beautiful thing that is. Sending hugs to you this morning. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 🥰🥰🥰
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Oh you have made me weep Vicki…💕🙏 I NEVER talk about that awful time in my life but after reading YOUR post, it just wouldn’t stop oozing out this morning… thank you so much for truly ‘getting’ it. Yes, I really did think we were all going to make a difference. But who knows? Maybe this blogging community is the place we (and our fellow bloggers) will get to do just that… Thank you for pointing me in the direction of the positive outlook. I am sending you big hugs right back…🙂💕🙏
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Well now! We both have weepy eyes! 😘In the best possible way! I’m with you — finding out that we’re not alone, that we have this kinship around a troublesome time, makes all of it easier. And I agree, our fabulous blogging friends fill us up with heart and positivity…often when we share our misgivings and disappointments…reminding ourselves of our humanity. Thank you seems insufficient, Patti…but I mean it with my whole heart! ❤️❤️❤️xo!
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🙂🙂🙂💕🙏
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This reminded me of a colleague who comes to the workplace visit once a year. I’m always happy to see him but most don’t really care. He keeps coming and visiting everyone. He IS the happy one.
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Ah yes…such a great example, Alessandra…it probably means a lot to him to check in and visit but the longer he’s away, the harder it might be for others to understand why he does so. Thanks for stopping by and sharing that! 😉
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