This is true in personal spheres, professional octagons and romantic triangles. No good books were ever written about good people doing good things. Because good people ruin all the fun.
That being said, of course, I make it my mission to point out great people, because the more I point my internet-sized finger at them, the better I feel about myself; thus making this an exercise in my ever-expanding egotism. Really though, it just makes me feel better about humanity, whereas most days force me to desire to live life as a dolphin.
More flipper, less bull.
I’ve written about inspirational people before. Most have served in as teachers or guides.
I’ve written about one of the first and greatest feminists I know, in the form of a grey-haired soccer-/-(or-dash)-history teacher from high school. I’ve written about my poetic inspirations. I’ve written about a woman that breathes empathy like the rest of us just breathe air. I’ve written about astronauts and engineers and painters.
The latest in the string of lucky encounters that I have been endowed with for no good reason?
An incredible boss.
Never in my life have I been so cared about by a professional-acquaintance-turned-friend. My boss over this summer, D, became so instantaneously invested in my future once I started at Harlequin that I think she’s done more for my career than LinkedIn. Because LinkedIn never gives you confidence, never instills in you the idea that you’re capable of more than you think you are, and that if you don’t prove it to yourself, you’re not pushing hard enough. That speaks to her managerial skills, her patience, and her astute acknowledgement of my weaknesses and neverending hope in my overwhelming strength.
So many epic adjectives. Man.
The point is, to feel that sort of devotion from another stranger about your future is empowering to a very emotional degree. When I was confused, she pushed me to be more confident. When I was frustrated, she took time out of her (always busy) day to listen to me. When I needed guidance, she counselled. When I needed a kick in the ass, she gave that too.
When you feel that sort of trust placed in you without any real basis, the last thing you want to do in your meagre time with these incredible people is to disappoint them. So I hope I haven’t. And I appreciate the countless bagels, pizzas, nail polishes, and lunch candy runs that she’s used to bribe me into more conducive work habits.
Thanks a lot, D. You’ve now officially wrecked any hope I had at enjoying any future jobs that don’t involve working with you.