creative media job scene from shutterstock

I chose my degree based on my belief that the best career path for me would be in the Financial sector as some sort of business analyst. I’d visited my Mum at work in Canary Wharf and instantly felt alive amongst the buzz of the trading floor, loved the glitz and glamour of the high profile women in sharp, tailored skirt suits whizzing past, full of importance and dripping in knowledge. I wanted to join that world. Long working days, million pound deals and long nights spent entertaining clients or pouring over company performance reports enthralled me. It left me feeling excited.

The reality of my original dream job

Working in the world of Finance was, on some levels exactly what I’d expected. There were long hours, lots of hard work and client entertaining, only I wasn’t the one doing the entertaining. There were big bonuses, only they were going to those further up the hierarchy than me, which was fine, I was willing to work my arse off to reach those levels. After the crash of 2008, I was thankful for even managing to get a job in banking and yearly culls within our company, as well as in the Banking sector as a whole was a constant reminder of just how lucky we were to still be employed.

Redundancies and negativity

Working in an industry where people are being made redundant in large waves every single year bred an environment full of bitchiness, back stabbing and general unease. What was already a time sensitive high pressure environment turned into one where people would capitalise on the simplest, innocent mistake of their colleagues in order to serve their own agendas, even at the price of pushing their colleagues into the ground and stomping on them with their red bottomed pumps. Mistrust was rife and rumours spread faster than Jeremy Clarkson’s petition after he was suspended from Top Gear.

I loved my job, worked with some great people and if I ignored the self important, bigoted ones and focussed on the pay cheque, you’d have thought that I’d be able to stick with it indefinitely. The problem is, it got to the point where the negatives started to greatly outweigh that amazing pay cheque and those friends who made it bearable all found their heads on the redundancy chopping block or left for higher paid jobs/ new experiences. With more redundancies came a greater feeling of unease within the company and more restructuring. I started coming into work, stepping out of the elevator and wondering what I was doing with my life. My stomach would leap into my throat and the temptation to simply turn around and go back down to the lobby became stronger and stronger.

The Tipping Point

Then it happened. My daughter and I were having an innocent enough talk about what she wanted to be when she grew up and she asked me if I were doing what I wanted to do when I had been little. Simple enough question really. But one that hit me like a tonne of bricks. Was this what I wanted? I was working long hours, sometimes with little to no notice at all. I was enjoying my actual role but it wasn’t one that I’d envisioned when I first decided to get into Finance a decade or so earlier. I was working for a new manager who chose not to acknowledge my existence most days and made me feel like an insignificant cog in a gigantic corporate sterile wheel. My old manager had always made me feel valued, had pushed to make sure my role provided me with room to grow and provided me with amazing projects to sink my teeth into.

Was I happy? No. Was I doing the job I’d dreamed of doing all those years ago when I was a little girl, visiting my mum in her glorious marble and glass offices? Nope, not in the slightest. I was missing my daughter grow up and consoling myself in my healthy salary. I decided then and there that although I didn’t have another job waiting for me, I wouldn’t waste another month in a role which left me playing elevator chicken every morning.

Circus Mums

 

Sharing post on Share The Joy / All About You

 

Ready for part two? Click here!

March 23, 2015
23 Comments
889