I got a solid night of sleep last night, and based on my track records, that means my psyche accepted something deep, so deep it’s visceral.
You see, I have been confounded with a question for almost a month, and yesterday, I finally had an answer. It was not what I wanted to hear, but I’ve come accept it, 面对了。
This is what happened: A friend of mine at work were discussing finances. It was just a low-key chat about finances, then all of a sudden, I accidentally found out (based on my clever calculations) that we were paid the same salary. The problem is, I’m a manager, while he’s in a rank-and-file position. I have a master’s degree while he has a bachelor’s degree. Internally, I rank two levels higher than him. What the hell? I couldn’t verbalize it at that time, but it felt being punched in the gut.
What was I supposed to do with this information? Store it up and build resentment? (Resentment for whom?) Ask for a raise? Beat myself up because of how much I suck?
At that time, I had the wherewithal to end the conversation calmly, as if nothing happened. I did not tell my friend what I discovered. (Nope, will not do so any time in the future.) But what is seen cannot be unseen—soon afterwards, my worth was in the toilet again. Why am I less valuable then my friend in the eyes of my company, am I that valueless?
So I started digging. It couldn’t be, my ego can’t take it. But in the back of my brain, my limbic, unconscious brain I knew, the feeling of worthlessness felt like home.
没用的人 (a useless person)—that was my childhood brand.
Generally, it’s distasteful to talk about how your office operates in public, so I’ll just share the relevant findings from my investigation. I discovered that what happened to me has also happened to many others. I am not unique in my struggle. Moreover, my experience in the office is similar to, and relatable for, many others inin other workplaces. Who doesn’t compare their career advancement, titles, and paychecks with others—especially with those they see as their equals? And while we’re there, let’s expand that list to our siblings, high school classmates and family members. Isn’t “Bat si X ang laki ng kinikita sa Company A, eh ikaw?” (“X is earning such a big salary, and where you at?”) stuff of the dreaded year-end parties with your extended family?
In terms of my predicament, the only way I can regain my self-respect is by earning more money. Whether it comes from a raise, a promotion, or a side gig outside of work—it doesn’t matter. I want it! Money is matter, and in my book, matter trumps the phantasmagoric concept of worth. I can chalk this up to my Chinoy roots—you know how we are: makwenta (calculating), business-minded, and pragmatic to a fault.
Conversely, the point of all this isn’t really about money. Take the money—I’d rather have time to recharge my batteries. I’m not young and supple anymore, and if you keep bending me, I will break. I know this body and its capriciousness, sadly, that’s the truth of middle age.
I’d like to gain more experience, emulate other seasoned psychologists, and build a sustainable, long-term career that will carry me into retirement with pride. That should be my focus—not this endless, myopic comparing. My friend’s and my career trajectories are entirely different. He has more experience in his specialized writing role, while I took a long pause to raise my kids—my kids! My friend doesn’t have that story. I can forgive—no, accept—myself for the choices I’ve made, surely.
As for my self-criticism about asking questions and doing my investigation, I realize now that my process—however circuitous and iterative—is part of who I am. My curiosity isn’t a pockmark on my face. It’s part of my face, just like my nose. It’ll always be a part of me as long as I live. I better own it.
Yes, the whole experience hurt. But the feelings I felt—the envy that consumed me, the disappointment, the fears they—were real AF. And they led me here, to grudging acceptance of myself.
