I’ve given a lot of my life to helping. Sometimes those receiving my help were lost causes, though we didn’t know that at the time. They’d be sustained by my hard work, and the hard work of others…until we became tired of putting our hearts and souls and backs into propping up something that wasn’t deserving of our time and attention, because it never gave back to us. We weren’t recognized, or appreciated. As soon as we drifted away, those things? They often died.
Is love a thing? Oh, love a thing…
Is love a thing, I owe?
Is love thing, oh, is love a thing
Is love a thing, you know?
You turn a corner when you learn
Love’s a thing you just can’t earn
You turn a corner, looking back
When love’s a thing you’vе never had…
– Monument to Life, Phildel
I’ve worked at enough places that have folded to tell you what the warning signs are. The ownership is often part of the management, and they’re distant, uninvolved, and don’t listen to their employees or other management when they try to offer insight about the customers or day-to-day operations. Those employees go on to quit, because they care about where they work, but they’re tired of being treated like they’re unimportant. Sometimes the ownership will bring in additional management from outside, and that usually dooms the organization, because they’re not invested at all in worker culture and don’t know what brings customers to the business.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen this in action.
And I’ve had to come to terms with it, because that’s just how it is: no matter how much you contribute in hours or attention or energy or love, they won’t love you back. They will fool you into believing you are loved, appreciated, valued. But in the end, you are another replaceable cog in their system and if you demand too much grease they’ll replace you. And it doesn’t matter if you’re the cog upon which the smooth running of the entire machine relies; you are replaceable to them. They’ll do it without a thought to their own detriment, because their vision and the bottom line take up their whole vision, to the point that they can’t possibly see the whole picture.
It’s capitalism, it’s hubris, it’s self-importance, it’s short-sightedness. And when it happens, there’s nothing you can do. You can ride along and wait for the crash, or you can say your piece and wait to be let go, or you can exit. All of them have their pros and cons. None of them will make you feel better about the situation.
They will never love you. You can’t let yourself start to believe that you’re important to them, or you’ll get hurt.
This applies to jobs, to volunteer positions, to organizations, to certain communities, to any group that pitches you the idea that “we’re all in this together” and “we’re a family” and “it’s an honor to work/serve here.” It’s okay to enjoy that feeling of belonging. But in the end, you need to remember that to those in charge, you will never be on the same level as them. You serve a purpose, and if you become inconvenient the chances are that you’ll be dropped and forgotten.
Do I sound bitter? I am, to some degree, only because it took me longer to figure that out than it should have. I’ve been idealistic, hopeful-eyed, ready to believe that my efforts really meant something to people who wouldn’t bother to spit on me if I was on fire otherwise. I’ve put my whole heart into my job, into my volunteer positions, into making events happen that everyone wanted but that everyone was happy to forget about who made them go on, with my time and money and sweat.
I’ve struggled to say NO to things I believed in, even after I knew they would drain me and leave me a dry and forgotten husk.
Now it’s time to love myself. It’s time to say no, over and over again, because I’ve said more yeses than I ever should. No one will love me like I will. I don’t owe them my love.
