I Don't Know How To Not Care...

For a long time I thought being good at what I do meant learning how to feel less.

Less affected.

Less attached.

Less open.

I thought professionalism meant control.

Composure.

Distance.

Be rational.

Be clear.

Be efficient.

Be strong.

And I tried.

I learned how to sit in rooms where decisions were being made that would change things for the people sitting across the table. And I learned how to keep my face steady. Keep my voice calm. Keep the conversation moving.

And then step out of that room, pick up my phone, and switch back into being someone’s mother, someone’s daughter, someone’s partner.

That switch is never as clean as people think….

Because I don’t stop feeling things just because I am in a professional setting.

I don’t know how to not think about the person on the other side of the table. Even when it would be easier if I did.

I have been in negotiations where I could have pushed harder.

Where I had the arguments.

Where I could have been ruthless and probably won more on paper.

And I chose not to.

Not because I didn’t understand the game.

Not because I wasn’t capable of it.

But because I could see what this decision would mean for them.

What it would cost them beyond what was being said in the room.

For a long time I thought this was something I needed to outgrow.

Something that made me softer. Less sharp. Less professional.

I thought the people who succeeded were the ones who could just move on.

Next decision.

Next problem.

Next meeting.

But the longer I work, the more I have realised something.

The people I trust when things are hard are not the ones who feel nothing.

They are the ones who understand what is actually at stake for everyone sitting in that room.

Because pressure is not just numbers. Or outcomes. Or timelines.

It is people trying to hold their lives together. People trying not to fail. People trying to prove they belong. People trying to protect something they built.

And I don’t know how to be good at what I do without seeing that. Without feeling that. Without carrying some part of that with me after I leave.

Yes, some days it is heavy.

Some days I wish I could switch it off.

But it has also made me more careful with people. More aware of what decisions actually do to real lives. More aware that there is always a story sitting behind a “professional situation”.

I don’t think being emotional makes you weak.

I don’t think it makes you less professional.

Sometimes it just means you understand consequences in a way numbers alone cannot explain.

Sometimes it is why people trust you when things are uncertain.

Sometimes it is why you pause before saying yes to something that will cost someone more than anyone in the room is willing to say out loud.

I don’t think professionalism should require us to become less human.

And I don’t think feeling everything means you are fragile.

I think sometimes it just means you feel what other people learn to walk past.

And I don’t think that is something I want to unlearn.