That Awesome Feeling When You’ve Done Your Best and Nobody Notices

That’s no excuse to brag about it

I don’t toot my horn when I’ve succeeded beyond my expectations at any endeavor.

Being the quiet one, I’ll savor it under the warm blanket of silence and maybe, just maybe, share it with a few trusted friends.

Even then, I may not receive the recognition I so crave.

Because — let’s be honest here — everybody loves a little praise.

In fact, we’d prefer drowning in oceans of it to sitting high and dry wondering why the fuck we should try.

This story began with Sherry McGuinn Open Letter, which you can read below to writers who brag of their monetary success.

Lying prone in the dentist’s chair yesterday, I had plenty of time to mull over what she wrote. Unlike her, I’ve only been writing for two years, so her comments on how demotivating newbies find the loud trumpeting of the elephants in the room hit home.

Today, retired to bed this afternoon after a double-tooth extraction (this is the part where the audience sighs in sympathy ……) I’m distracting myself, though not distraught, but expanding on the theme of nobody noticing.

It doesn’t just apply to writers but to any endeavor by anybody at any age.

Many of us grew up without praise from our parents

You may have wilted under the barrage of what-a-stupid-idea or why-can’t-you-be-like-(insert favored sibling here) or no-your-father-can’t-take-you-to-the-the-final-audition-for-the-lead-role-in-Joan of Arc-because-I-married-your-father-not-his-children-and-he-must-give-his-full-attention-to-me. Great feeling when the bitch who bullied you in boarding school three years prior gets the lead and throws it in your face at every opportunity.

Been there?

How did your teachers treat you at school?

Heck, I matriculated in 1966, age sixteen, and had no kids of my own to confirm what I suspect. But I’m damn sure even in the 21st century, teacher’s pet is still a thing.

You put up your hand in class to answer and the teacher always ignores you. Fear of rejection seeps into your psyche so you stop bothering.

What a blessing that there are excellent teachers. No coincidence that the subjects I excelled in were the ones where they took an interest in every student’s progress, not only the favoured few.

I sucked at science.

What of the workplace?

Gender discrimination, patriarchy, age discrimination — grist for my writing mill. (Sue me — I used a cliché.)

I entered the corporate world in 1985 after divorcing my faux-hippy-who-never-could-hold-down-a-job-and-emotional-abuser-husband.

Having spent ten years as men’s skivvy (secretary/personal slave) I opted to prove I could be as good as any man in a management position.

Fast forward four years, I’d risen from Consultant to Supervisor to Customer Services Manager, then hit a stumbling block when my then Branch Manager recommended me for his position pending his promotion and transfer.

Senior management (the guys who fly in from the Ivory Tower, shit on you, and fly back) needed proof I possessed the intelligence to fill such a post????

If I attended, completed and passed the mini-MBA course at the Wits School of Business, they’d endorse my appointment.

The waves of success I’d left in my wake as I rose through the ranks — endorsed by clients, staff, colleagues, and immediate superiors — counted for nothing.

After all — I was (shudder) a woman!

It was the ultimate insult.

But there’s more.

Men were admitted to the management advancement program based on whatever info they provided on their application form, supported by a cover letter from their employer.

However, any female who applied had to be interviewed and approved by the dean of the faculty.

I simmered!

I didn’t know what to expect at the interview so I kept my cool and played it by ear.

It’s the shortest I ever attended.

The Prof asked me why I wanted to do the course.

This was my spontaneous answer as close as I can remember it.

“I didn’t want to do it but I’ve been told that if I don’t, I won’t be promoted to Branch Manager, a position I deserve. Now I’m curious to discover the underlying principles driving success where I’ve always applied the principle of common sense.”

“You’re in.” he laughed!

What a pleasant surprise to meet an emotionally intelligent man in those days!

After a full financial year as Branch Manager, my operation achieved a 75% growth in gross profit. Nobody noticed except me. Not a word.

That lack of recognition rankled.

The managers who had previously supported me were no longer around.

I tried for a while to fit in, getting drunk and misbehaving with the boys at conferences so I could ‘belong’.

But I tired of the corporate games, burnt out.

The moment I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, the atmosphere changed.

My contribution at management meetings was ignored. I picked up rumours I was incompetent and hadn’t a clue about budgeting.

“Well done” coated in golden bonus chocolate was thrown around like candy, but I was never a lucky recipient.

I was desperately unhappy. My self-esteem and self-confidence plummeted.

The only thing that stopped me resigning sooner than 1997 was the incredible relationship I had with my staff — 40 beautiful men and women of all ages and races.

We were family before democracy in 1994.

(Perhaps a hint of my future as a writer was the poem I wrote them at my farewell, lost somewhere among the myriad moves and changes in my life.)

Age discrimination is real

I’d enjoyed a new career from 2000 as an art framing consultant. However, I turned 65 in 2015 and that was the end.

Unemployed. No prospects. Too old, don’t you know. Useless. A burden to society.

“It’s NEVER too late to wake up and ALWAYS too soon to give up.” — Caroline de Braganza, May 2018

I became a writer three years ago

I spent the first year writing a book on coping with depression I’ll probably never publish. Been writing on this platform for two years.

This century I’ve developed a thick psychological skin that enables me to keep going when the easiest thing is to give up.

Or so I thought until I met the braggarts who chirp away and chip away at my belief in my writing self.

I stopped following them and removed “Writing” from my Topics of Interest because each time I opened an article believing I could learn from the experts, I felt small and insignificant.

Believe me, there are exceptions. Writers who are genuine, humble, and offer practical advice. I salute you. You know who you are.

Yes, I’d love to earn more so I can fix my teeth and my eyes. (Yesterday’s visit to the dentist was partly paid for out of my earnings here but not enough to complete my treatment).

Despondency overwhelms me when I read of this and that one earning megabucks and the temptation to give up overwhelms me.

But then I remember 2.5 k people follow and read my stories.

I will not disappoint them.

Nor the writers whom I admire, who have been writing for years, who write beautifully and who tell me I do too. They are precious diamonds!

Genuine praise, support, and recognition from others that you’re giving your best, whether at home, at school, the workplace, or in your creative endeavors, go a long way in helping people feel good about themselves.

Let that be the driving force of how we interact with one another.

Thank you for reading.

Here’s where this idea began:

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