Salable

Am I likeable? It’s a question this morning.

They say this is a product of naivete – or of youth – because supposedly, once you reach a certain age of “maturity,” such questions ought not to plague you.

I know I am likeable – and even more so, a genuine benefactor of humanity by the kind words I’ll say, or the lift I’ll give to another’s spirit in just passing.

I develop great rapport, genuine affection for, and caring with individual clients. I nourish trust between us, and they put a chance for their well beings’ progress in my hands.

It’s when I attempt to join forces with another team that I get bad messaging: I show up, play fair and squarely – then get rejected because the staff are doing other things.

I don’t go up to them in their face, and confront them.

I don’t walk around the office with a chip on my shoulder, or imposing judgements.

I just draw my sense of self more around me, holding my own position and not joining in the debauchery.

Meanwhile, the rest of the office flocks like birds chirping and following each others’ lead, swooping and winding through gossip trees.

Or, they gather together like a pack of hyenas, ready to figuratively attack and strip others, as soon as they see them.

I just take a step back and watch them, politely declining to add weight to their “cause.”

Before long, they excise me – and when I turn to go, they swipe at me with claws.