The Ultimate High

“The most dangerous addiction is the approval of others”

Recently I was criticized for my choice to share my story by a loved one. Why? Who am I? Is the insinuation that I am nobody? That I don’t deserve to share my story? That I should stay quiet and not speak my mind? That I should not be allowed to take up space in the world? Should I not be allowed to share a story of lessons, triumph, downfalls, of the basic human experiences and challenges we all face? Should I not be allowed to reach out and say, “It’s okay, I’m struggling too. I’ve struggled too. I’ve messed up too. I’m trying to be better”.

Should I be compliant?

Should I be fearful of the approval of others?

Fuck that.

Recently the question was put to me to ponder “Who is someone in your life that has made a lasting impression or inspired you?”. That’s easy to answer. What feels like a lifetime ago, working on Hamilton Island, I was very fortunate to work for one of my most favourite managers to date, Tammy. I have always been drawn to smart, strong women, and I can’t quite tell if I was crushing on them, or wanting to be them, or a combination of both. Tammy had a unique ability to be both scary at times, but also empathetic and compassionate. She had this stare that terrified me. See, for me she was scariest when she didn’t say anything at all. Like when she called you into her office, and she would just look at you. You knew you were in trouble! My favourite part though, was she wouldn’t tell you why you were in trouble. She would simply sit there, calmly staring at you, and tell you “I want you to tell me why you are here”. It gave “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed” parental vibes.

She was a leader. A confident, strong, fearless leader but she cared about her staff and treated them with kindness. She taught me my first lesson in accountability unknowingly at the time. I remember if us supervisors were complaining about our staff, she would make us look at ourselves first. “If your staff aren’t working to the best of their ability, have you looked at yourself and questioned your leadership and where you can improve?” – a lesson that hasn’t left my mind in any position I’ve worked since.

I was in my 20’s and arguably one of my most reckless stages of life, though I’m sure that’s up to debate, as there were many. I was struggling with my self-worth, anxiety, depression and life in general – as well as an excessive amount of drinking. I gave my managers so much trouble, the naughty rebellious drunk child. I remember one time Tammy asked me what I was struggling with, and I simply said “Life”. She replied, matter of fact, “Life happens. It’s happening to all of us. You must learn to live with it”. At the time I probably thought it was a little harsh, but now I know it to be true. Human suffering is not unique, and I am not special. A lesson I wouldn’t accept until later, but it did stick with me.

That said, she was still the first person to see me and help me. She set me up with a GP appointment, and I was given mental health support in work hours. This generosity has never been forgotten.

View from Beach Club, Hamilton Island

I was quiet though. I remember in morning briefings; I would hide at the back of the crowd with my back against the wall. I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want to be heard. I wanted to be invisible, and most of the time I felt invisible. I was like this at school too, never the one to put my hand up to answer a question. I hated when everyone sang “Happy Birthday”, all attention on me. Eventually I would become a supervisor, but I would still shy away from morning briefings, still hiding in the back even though the supervisors took turns addressing the team each day. I thought this went un-noticed, but foolishly I was wrong. I know this because one day Tammy and an assistant manager set me up and announced to the entire team that I would be addressing everyone for morning briefing and put me on the spot and gave me no choice but to step up and speak.

It. Was. Absolutely. Mortifying. I don’t think I’ve forgiven them to this day…

Still slightly traumatized…

But I was scared to speak up. Why? Fear of judgement? Fear of everyone else's opinions? Did I feel like my voice wasn't worth being heard?

I get it now though. During a performance review it was Tammy who for the most part commended me for my efforts and work ethic, but left me with one area to improve on,

“Speak up”

“You have ideas, your opinions matter, we want to hear your voice”

It took me a long time to fully comprehend and believe these words, too long, but again those words still stuck around in my head. I was seen and someone was reminding me that I’m valuable and I have something to offer.

3am housekeeping shifts had their perks

Maybe I’m getting old and running out of patience. Maybe I’m tired of being fearful of the approval of others. Maybe I’m finally starting to realise my own self-worth.

 You don’t have to like me, you don’t have to agree with me, you don’t have to care about my stories, and you are not obligated to read them or listen to them.

I will speak up though.