Beware the Ides of March. And the Taxes of April. And, oh yeah, the Bills of May.
These days, there is far too much going on in this little head of mine. Were it not for the cabana boys bringing me cocktails on a regular basis to sway my moods, I do not know how I would manage.
This spring marks the anniversary of my semi-adulthood day-job promotion. With it comes, God willing, the semi-adulthood bonus associated with an otherwise perfunctory and nominally impressive upgrade in title. Sure looks purty on a business card, though.
In my non-superhero day job, I own the title of manager at a Fortune 500 company. I have stability, a career track, a vision plan and a 401(k). For a girl who’s worked in door-to-door sales, managed a Santa photo shoot, scheduled highlight appointments at a hair salon, served as a travel au pair and poured drinks for karaoke kings — just to name a few jobs — this “first” is a weird and unique experience.
I’m almost kind of semi-respectable and serious. I carry authority and influence at work, and people actually listen and do what I tell them to do. Sometimes, I even wear a business suit to meetings. And I even like it. (Although, I still prefer waddling in on Fridays wearing orange flip-flops.) Pair this with the fact that I have a “professional coach.” Despite the way it sounds, this coach doesn’t employ a bullhorn to violently extol the virtues of collating or memo-writing. It’s not as Dilbert-esque as one would expect.
During the short time I’ve been with my company, I’ve been promoted twice, received three raises, built and supported a team of peers, managed projects and metrics that exceeded performance goals (yes, I’m going into business-speak) and gotten to chop it up with the head of my division over cigarettes and semi-dirty jokes. Somehow, they haven’t found a good reason to fire me yet. Not even after the joke about the penguin and the cigar.
For the rest of the world, this might be considered a model of success. For me, this is full-on, no-holds barred freaktacular. My freak-out-o-meter went into overdrive when I was asked to speak at a conference this year regarding leadership and women in technology. On the Ides of March.
Leader. Woman. Power. Me?
Well, I’m pretty sure I’m at least one of those.
Power is something that I have never really considered. Not my own anyway, and not in a cheese-tastic Tony Robbins flavor either. I’ve unfortunately been ingrained with traditional and myopic perceptions when it comes to women and power.
A powerful man is virile, sexy and competent. A powerful woman can be sexy as well, but the baggage of other anticipated characteristics have always felt daunting and scary. Dragon lady or a dried-up maid. Predatory, immoral and vicious or selfish, driven, brittle and lonely. Yes, I know these are simplified, stupid stereotypes, but subconsciously these perceptions had their claws in me.
