Flying without armor

This is from a longer story I wrote about battles at work, but thought Rebels might get some value from this:

I learned to sense battles and swerve. I’m not a fighter. A rebel, yes. But rebelling for something meaningful gives energy. Fighting battles sucks the life force out of you. Getting beat up didn’t make me stronger. It made me resentful, bitter and insecure.

No more battling the old-boys, the bureaucratic machine with its rigid roles and definitions of success. Most women don’t battle. We figure things out together, get it done and then have dinner and talk about life away from work. Wise men know this, too.

My professional and personal friends are not warriors. They are collaborators, teachers, advocates, helpers, cheerleaders and whatever else they need to be.

The question in business is not “how can we win,” but “how can we help.” Not how can we kill the competition or sideline the other exec for the open spot, but how can we provide more value.

Yes, this is naïve, as my friends still battling in the corporate world remind me.

Some are great warriors who enjoy the battles. I am a creative bird that flies without armor.