I am here to gently acknowledge that I am late to the “The Morning Show” party. My husband and I binge-watched it over the course of about 5 days. I’d also like to gently acknowledge how spectacular it is! If you haven’t seen it, watch it. It has a stellar cast, the story is intriguing and intense, and the performances are incredible. Talk about meaty monologues!
The show is highly entertaining with timely subject matter that is something to pay attention to. It centers around the scandals of a morning network news program. Even though I have never worked in television (my career was in retail; I worked for the nation’s largest brands, rising from field positions up to the corporate offices), “The Morning Show’s” storyline has hit home.
“The Morning Show” has struck a chord with me. It mimics my own experiences within the corporate environment and has surfaced many challenging feelings. My personal experience with at-work abuse at the hands of leadership is not based on sexual harassment or sexual misconduct; however, I see myself and my story in the show’s character, Hannah.
Unlike Hannah, the tipping point that made me leave my career of twenty-five years was not rooted in being young and green or enamored by the star quality of a potential mentor. I was already established in my career and was attempting to do my job to the best of my abilities.
My situation was similar with regard to emotional manipulation and abuse, and working for a company whose leaders turned a blind eye to the truth of the situation: my CEO was emotionally and physically abusive. We’ll call him Joe.
Joe’s level of displeasure or dislike of my work or ideas would manifest in various ways, sometimes subtly other times very obvious. Sometimes, the abuse would be simple and dismissive, like chuckling under his breath and saying, “You’re a fucking idiot,” or sternly demanding to “Just get the fuck out of my office now”. Other times, it could be as striking as watching him angrily rip up a presentation deck and toss the pieces at me, exclaiming, “This is crap!” Other times it could be as mentally and emotionally scarring as him screaming; pounding his fists on the table, or desk; berating my work in front of others; or throwing pens, binders, or coffee mugs. Yes . . . that actually happened. Yet, after each incident, I returned to my desk and continued to work. I put a smile on my face and pretended everything was fine. I put in extra hours and tried to not become what I was told I was: a horrible excuse of a worker. In my office, I would try to recover from his tirades by staring blankly at my computer and blindly clicking through old emails to appear busy. I would open Word and type “This is the first day of the rest of your life” over and over again, like Jack in “The Shining”. I was wounded.
Office gossip and water cooler conversation proved that I was not alone in this. He was relatively democratic in his treatment of others. If he liked you, you could do no wrong; if he didn’t, you were pushed out. For some, it was very quick. For others, it was like a slow and painful death where every ounce of your humanity was sucked out of you, every bit of self-confidence was leached from your psyche, and every last shred of mental stability was torn away.
When the incidents became more frequent and more colleagues started to notice, I discussed Joe’s behavior in a private meeting with Human Resources and my direct supervisor, a vice president. I was told that I needed to flex my leadership and communication style to better match Joe’s and that by doing that I would get on Joe’s “good side”. They acknowledged that they were aware of his inappropriate behavior, including sharing that he even participated in an executive retreat where anger management was the central topic. Regardless, it was in my best interest to find ways to work around it.
Over time, CEO Joe whittled down my department to two full-time employees and segregated us from the rest of our division. We were moved to a floor that was associated with a completely different brand. Although we were in the same building, we were separated from our coworkers and internal business partners, which made daily interaction challenging and increased the difficulty of our job. We three shared a 6×6 office designed to be an office for one. Joe told colleagues and internal departments to not interact with my department. We were routinely “left off” of key meetings, and then held accountable for knowing what was defined in those meetings. When we didn’t deliver –can’t do what you don’t know needs to be done–his behavior and reactions seemed justified.
I had more conversations with Human Resources. I had more conversations with my boss. Repeatedly, I was told this was my issue and my problem to solve. I would leave these conversations realizing that I was being coached to modify my perception of what was, in fact, my reality. I began to believe what Joe said, that I was nothing. I started to flounder as I struggled to navigate this abuse–alone–for the “sake of the company”. I had been manipulated into feeling like what was happening to me was because of me, not because my boss was psychotic. I believed it and I started to behave that way. I became closed off and turned to drinking and drugs to try to escape what was happening. My relationships, my work, and my life suffered.
In what was to become my last performance appraisal with this company, I received the worst review I have ever received. Granted, it wasn’t as if I was going to be fired, but it was delivered as a wake-up call. I re-explained that my work suffered based on the abuse I was trying to survive. Again, I was told it was my problem. Roughly two weeks later, I called to request a leave of absence.
I went to rehab and started my journey of recovery, not only from drugs and alcohol but also from the debilitating emotional damage and PTSD that I suffered. I have struggled for years with shame and guilt over my leaving and that I was not strong enough to overcome Joe’s power over me. Two years ago, I made a paper doll effigy of Joe and stuffed him with strips of paper on which I wrote everything he did to me. Ceremoniously, at my favorite park in NYC, I lit him on fire and watched him burn. With him burned the pain and the abuse.
I’d love to tell you that this simple action made it all disappear, but it did not. My journey of healing continues. It wasn’t until I was watching “The Morning Show” that I realized that burning Joe in effigy really helped. As Hannah’s storyline unfolded, I saw my own storyline. Watching Hannah’s experiences reminded me of mine, but they felt so much further away. It hurt to watch it, but a sense of relief that I was no longer subject to that abuse washed over me.
“The Morning Show” demonstrates, very realistically, how those in positions of power can be so wildly corrupt and morally bankrupt of any human decency. It also depicts how aptly the requirement of “corporate loyalty” by leaders (or worse, by Human Resources who should be there to help whistle-blowers) is fueled by greed and corruption.
Not only is it entertaining, but it helped me find my voice to publicly acknowledge–for the first time ever–that this is what I lived through and what I have been struggling to face.
This is a gentle acknowledgement of what I experienced. Anyone else–especially those who were present, those who coached me to change my behavior, those who told me my leadership style was the issue, those who sat in any VP, EVP, C-level, or HR seat during that time–want to gently acknowledge what happened?
don't touch my poodle 