We've all been there - the moment you start a new job and discover that you just don't click with your boss? So what do you do next? Brooke Le Poer Trench finds out.
I got 15 years into my career before I met someone who really did not like me… at all. Some context: I had been bought in to re-energise the team. She was my boss, but I was supposed to be the person who could shake thing up, from underneath. Which is never a great way to start a relationship with your direct report. Still, I wanted to do good work, and I had immense respect for her experience and what she’d achieved to date. I was on a six month contract with the potential to extend. What could go wrong?
My husband nailed the issue several weeks into my role. I was describing her attitude at work: She comes in, sits down, doesn’t speak, barely collaborates, does her work and then goes. He looked at me, slightly amused. “Is it possible she doesn’t hate you… but is just an introvert?” As someone who prides themselves on having a high EQ, this stumped me. “What are you saying… she’s just shy?” He turned to me and slowed his voice down, in the same tone we used to explain new ideas like “sharp edges” and “hot things” to our then three-year-old. “No, she’s an introvert. Can you imagine what it would be like working next to you… if you were an introvert?” Basically, her worst nightmare had pitched-up one metre away.
“So I shouldn’t take this personally?” I asked. “No, you probably should. It doesn’t sound like she’s thrilled you’re there. But you need to perhaps think about how your behaviour feels from where she is sitting.” I hadn’t come across too many of these people, I explained. “Well, you married one.” WHAT? This floored me. “You are not an introvert.” He explained that he was… but it just played out differently for us. “I like it when you speak… non-stop.”
I now had to rethink the amount of energy I had been putting into trying to get this woman to like me. Wondering endlessly what I had done to offend her. Ruminating on the early days of my employment to find the misstep. And the time I spent trying to win her approval. To build a relationship. “Stop trying so hard,” he suggested. And then this gem: “This is an opportunity for you to stretch yourself and learn to adapt. It’s a good thing.” Which was so insightful it made me cross.
Hmmm, hide my light behind a bushel. Interesting. And confusing. I had always been told the “energy” I bring to a team and my work is an asset. That I have a “good vibe.” That I was a great team player. Yet now my perceived worth… wasn’t worth that much.
Even worse, now that I had passed through the “needy puppy dog” phase and the “hyper-vigilant study of her body language” phase, I had entered a new one: really, really disliking her. “Look at the way she swans in without looking at anyone” I’d scowl from my desk. “Ugh, she doesn’t even say hello or goodbye.” And don’t even get me started on the dagger to my heart when she was nice to other people, like her boss or the accounts people.
I ran all this by a friend, who happened to be a neurologist and executive coach: “Has it occurred to you that this is all happening in your head? Is there a chance she is just coming to work and hasn’t given all of this a second thought? There is a chance you don’t even figure in her day.” My friend is direct… did I mention that?
I reflected on whether she was like this with everyone else. Answer: Most of the time. I thought about whether there had been a change in her behaviour at some point towards me. Answer: No, she’d always been dismissive. I thought about whether anyone else had similar concerns. Answer: Yes, I’d had a few conversations with people who also struggled with her reserved nature (note: yes, my anxiety was causing me to gossip which I recognise is terrible, but also, this was a learning moment for me so back off).
And finally, the elephant in the room: why did I even care so much? Why was I reacting this way? Did I need to be liked by everyone? Could I only ever work with people built just like me, who wear who they are on their lapels? True, she was my boss and rarely gave feedback. But the more incensed I became, and the more I workshopped her behaviour with anyone who would listen to feel better, the worse I felt. As my coach/friend put it: “It’s much easier to say, “You’re doing this to me!” It’s much more difficult to self-reflect and think, “Why am I reacting this way?””
You have two options, she then told me. The first is to ask her about it. Be respectful of her boundaries and her position, and say something like, “I might have all this wrong, but have I done something to offend or disappoint you?” You might not like the answer, but at least you’ll know. The second option: take the hint and give her the space she clearly wants.
In the end, I took option two and finished out my contract. I did the best work I could with a manager who didn’t really acknowledge my work… and I moved on after six months. On my last day, she just got up and left (some other coworkers got a cake). So I guess I got my answer. Happily, I went onto a better role with a team I loved, and I heard through the grapevine that my replacement quit after a few weeks. Honestly, that made me feel better (I am that juvenile). What did I learn… ? Yes, my boss didn’t like me. And I definitely didn’t like her management style. But I have often thought about the fact that she just worked so differently to me… and my arrival could have really upset her workspace. So these days I go in a little more softly. I take some time to read the room and get to know my colleagues. I don’t come in with the jazz hands on day one (more like, day four). I am more respectful of the different ways people work. And I made peace with not being liked. JOKING. DM if you know how to tackle that one.