I'm bossy, but I don't like being the boss

Finally learning that was the key to a happier life

I’ve always been a bossy boots. Perhaps it has something to do with being an only child, maybe I was just born that way, but I remember having my own mug in my nanna’s house that said “Vicki - meaning Leader, she is always in command” and tiny me thinking “yep, sounds about right!” I’m not one for astrology personally, but is an Aquarius woman with Leo rising and Gemini moon a recipe for a pushy little rip?

I’m also a huge lickarse, so I guess it’s no real surprise to anyone that I flew up to career ladder; I have always had a terrible case of wanting to be The Best Girl™, and that state of mind can be easily manipulated by others looking for a workhorse.

By 26, I was editing weekly magazines (plural!) at a national newspaper. By 30, I was editor-in-chief of a national magazine. By 33 I was the entire company’s Managing Director, in charge of everything except the finances. In that role, I had about 13 full time jobs but it was all my own doing - I took it all on myself, because I was a Boss Bitch! That’s what ambitious women do! Right?

Um, no. Just because I COULD do it all never meant that I should. But for a long time, admitting that felt like an admission of failure or like I couldn’t handle stress or a heavy workload. In reality, admitting that was the making of me.

I remember that MD role first being mooted very clearly, because it was on the day of my 33rd birthday. It was January, it was dark and miserable out and for a few weeks, I’d been wondering where my life was taking me (no doubt inspired by the new year, new you articles I’d been editing since October). I’m the kind of person that if I see a problem, I want to fix it quickly without having to ask for permission. I figured that this role would allow me to do just that, and what type A gal wouldn’t jump at the chance?! It was another six months before I would actually assume it and a mere eight months later, just as I was about to implement my best laid plans, the world locked down. All of a sudden, there were myriad crises and a landscape changing daily.

Over the next three years, I would come to realise that I actually really did not like being the big boss. I hated the professional distance it had to put between my colleagues and I, didn’t like people being nervous to talk to me. I soaked up staffer’s issues like a sponge, taking them on as my own. I hated having to worry about the bottom line and the big picture. Knowing trade secrets made it difficult to remain creative, because I was forever making decisions with a business brain only.

To be the boss, you have to be prepared to be a figurehead that’s subject to great expectations, fear, loathing and a great deal of bitching. Employees have to have someone to moan about, right? You can be the kindest, nicest, most selfless manager there is, but you’re still the boss. That separates you, puts up an automatic wall that I really didn’t like. My ego didn’t get off enough on any perceived power to balance it out. I always felt like I was losing, or missing out.

Sure, there were great parts. I liked the title, and the email signature. It was nice when everything went right and I was at the top of the tree. It was fun organising nice things for the team, or being the one to give good news, praise and positive feedback. But I wasn’t the kind of boss who had a PA running my calendar, or a massive salary to cushion the blow of the difficult parts.

As a feminist, an educated woman and someone with endless ambition whose career is very important to her, I’ve been taught that we must continue climbing to the top in order to succeed. But when I got there, it didn’t feel quite as impressive as it sounded. I didn’t have the resources to smash through a very thick glass ceiling. So I decided it was in my own best interest to do a bit of Snakes and Ladders, and scoot sideways in to a different lane. To follow my own passions instead of running someone else’s company, and instead of focusing on business, focus on my true strengths - ideas, being creative and getting shit done.

It’s okay to not want to be a boss. It’s fine if it doesn’t suit your personality. It’s not a failure on your part, or indicative of you being ‘less than’ in any way. For me, that was a tricky pill to swallow. Shouldn’t I aspire to be a Girl Boss, above all else? Well… no, actually.

I guess I’m lucky that I learned what truly mattered to me about work and career at a relatively young age. If I hadn’t been so precocious, I could have carried the misinformation I’d taught myself well in to middle age. Some people just do better when they’re working to impress a superior. Because doesn’t The Best Girl™ need someone to tell her she’s the best?!