To Whom It May Concern
Because apparently it doesn't concern corporations.
Lovers, friends, besties. Happy Thirst Trap Thursday. I hope you’re hot, sweaty, sweet and soulful.
May this week have filled you up with as much joy as you possibly can take and may you burst into the weekend like a water balloon blissfully launched at your sibling’s face.
This week has been such a creative week. I made two (TWO) Tik Toks after figuring out how to edit videos. This is a VERY different skill than what I’m used to. But it’s scratching that itch behind my ear I just can’t reach. And what a good scratch it is.
For those that don’t know — I do photography and never got into video because I like photos. But honestly, that’s probably this new thing I learned called ‘The Censor’ speaking in my ear. Shout out my Julia Cameron baddies. MY censor’s name is called the Cuntsor. Because well, you get the idea.
What can I say. This this week has felt GOOD. Even though I’m still jobless.
A friend of mine said ‘you’re not unemployed, you’re an artist.’ I loved that. But I am also unemployed. The act of being employed or unemployed will NEVER change the fact that I’m an artist. That I’m a writer. That I’m a poet. That I’m a photographer. That I must create.
Which is honestly what I’m here to talk to you about — Jobs + Identity.
To Whom It May Concern, my job is not my identity. And my Identity is not my job. I am me. I am more. I can not be encapsulated in a singularity. None of us can.
TLDR:
This is a long post. I do not apologize for it.
If you want to skip to the important bits, read ‘I am,’ ‘Today', and ‘To Whom It May Concern.’
There is some very poetic, well written paragraphs in ‘November Onward,’ and ‘Today’ that I would highly recommend checking out.
I do not think you need to know the ‘Timeline’ or what brought me to NYC (read: ‘New York, New Me’). But I do believe these are relevant to the story should you be inclined to have a deep read.
There are memes throughout this entire post. And in my honest opinion, they’re top tier. Look and read carefully.
I am.
I’ve struggled with identity. Honestly — as with most men, I’ve struggled with my job being the center of my identity.
Let’s take that a step further — as a PERSON in a capitalist, materialist society — I’ve been TOLD what my identity is. And generally, have gone with that.
We spend a lot of time at our jobs. The average person will spend 90,000 hours working. Nearly 1/3 of our life. Imagine what having 90,000 more hours to discover who you are, what you enjoy, and what fills your soul. That’s wildddddddd.
But. Here we are. Forced to work. Born to yearn.
I believe this is why society has put such an emphasis on being an ‘Engineer’, a ‘Doctor’, a ‘Lawyer’, a ‘[Insert the most boring fucking title you could ever imagine here]’. So much of our life, our time, our soul is spent doing something someone else tells us to do. And for what?
For money. For ‘freedom.’ For being able to afford… life?????????????
Wild.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-work. I love working. I love being productive. Maybe that’s my brainwashed worms talking. But I’m a Capricorn.
Let me be useful. Gimme a job. That’s literally my love language. Let meeeee support you, your work. Your profession. It’s an acts-of-service kind of love.
What I am is anti-work-as-your-identity. That’s the LEAST interesting thing about you.
I want to know when you stopped peeing the bed as a kid. I want to know your biggest fear. I want to know what inspires you. I want to know if you crochet, if you like the mountains or the beach, what art makes you go ‘ooooo, ahhhhhhh.’ What kind of guy/girl/they/them makes you go ‘AWOOOOOOOOOGAHHHH’.
Are you excited to be a dad? Would you make a good mother? Does your kid piss you off or are they the go-with-the-flow kind of kid? How do you express love? What would your parents say about you?
I could not care less about you auditing some corporation’s taxes. The Man can burn.
I am, and always will be, more. You are, and always will be, more.
But… for the last year — I was less. I was a shell of myself. I was 1/3 of who I am. I was scratching at a frictionless tree trying to climb up it with claws dulled, removed even, because of some pipe-dream I was told to follow 5 years ago.
I lost myself somewhere in a line they placed me in and told me to take a number. Wait patiently and my name will be called — they said. Get in your lane. Stand there, 6 feet apart, just enough to not be contagious and not stir the pot.
I continued to do so. For 5 years. The worst of it in the last 8 months.
I was told ‘Go start a business, your ideas are wonderful.’ I was told, ‘You’ve an eye for supporting startup founders. Lean in there.’ I was told, ‘Venture Capital might be for you. You could make a LOT of fucking money.’
And so I chased. And chased. And chased. And chased. And chased.
Until — I found myself at a place I deemed credible enough for my ambitious self.
However, I felt like I lacked. I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like I was less than.
I stated this in my first blog — it wasn’t anything that they did. It was me. It was the fact that I was 1/3 of myself. Honestly, I was probably even less than 1/3 of myself, but you get the point.
I was feeling less than because I WAS less than. I was forced to be somebody I was not. And I’m ready to tell the story of the last 12 months.
New York, New Me.
For the last 2 years, I’ve been trying to find a job I truly enjoy. A place I feel like I belong.
I was searching for a professional home. And someone to mentor me — someone to put as much time into me as I do the company.
In July of 2024, 1 year ago, I thought I had found a place, and a people, that ~seemed~ right. A place that matched my professional interests to. a. fucking. tee.
I was elated.
I applied, I got the first round interview and immediately hit it off with the hiring manager. A woman I have SO much respect for, even now. The amount of support she gave me through the entire process, the responsiveness, the communication, and the guidance was unlike many interviews previously. And this was for a place I started to see myself at.
I even did part of the interview while I was on vacation with my friends. We were playing beer olympics for the 4th of July. And I had to interview during it.
This is still a proud moment of mine. To be able to ace the interview amongst the chaos that is 14+ 20 somethings who are wrecking havoc in Northern Michigan is impressive.
Fast forward to August, I got the job offer. I negotiated to a standard where I could afford to move to a new state for a job, a company, I could see myself at.
The confidence was building within me.
The Timeline:
My first day: She told me they’re sending me to Italy in 3 months. My first time ever out of the country. I can’t believe it. What the fuck is this job? It can’t be real. These people are so cool. These founders are phenomenal. This company can’t be real, can it? OH — and she said take some time off after to explore. It’s the norm, you should embrace it. What the actual fuck?
My first month: Oh — btw your manager is going to be on maternity leave starting in a few months. Me: that’s fine. I have a work bestie that I know will train me well and I’m supported by two other incredibly talented individuals that I know can be a resource while I’m here.
Pause — 2-3 months in: News flash — we’re reorganizing the company to stand up a new team & function (of which you’ll be a part of). Your manager won’t be your manager anymore. We’re figuring out the team. But you’re going to be here. Sorry this happened the week before you leave for Italy. We can talk more about it when you get back. Go enjoy!
Thoughts: okay…… cool cool cool cool. Not a time to freak out. No red flags yet, but hesitancy is building within me. I’ve been through a reorg before. It always takes longer than expected. There’s growing pains. There’s never a clear direction. People leave. Things change, not always for the better. But these people seem like they know what they’re doing. It’ll be fine. The director being out for paternity leave for a bit won’t be an issue. We can do this — you like building things and teams. You’ve done it before. I am optimistic, and cautious.
Italy: an incredible experience. A place that will forever have a special place in my heart. I’m so happy to have met people I will continue to keep in touch with.
3 months in, and this was the last time I felt secure in my job.
November and onward:
I came to this place, a place I trusted, a place I took a chance on. A place that I believed I could grow and be developed into the professional person I strived to be.
I sought, and still seek, a mentor. But instead I was given imposter syndrome and became lost without a map in an ocean surrounded by sharks.
For me — the lack of something to aspire to, the lack of someone I knew I could learn from with a very clear example of how, with a lack of leadership — demotivated me. I had come to this place for that. A mentor. Someone to lead — I was done leading.
I had done that for the last 4 years, building teams, building playbooks, building products, XYZ, I wanted to learn. I still do. The leading switch was turned off.
The reason this job didn’t work out wasn’t because I lacked a skill that made me unable to do my job well. I know that now. It was a lack of motivation.
I lacked motivation because I lacked, rather stifled, my identity. Scratch that, I was forced to be someone I was not in the pursuit of pleasing someone I did not choose to work for. Someone I did not know. And quite frankly, still don’t know.
To top it off, I was transitioned into a role that did not match the job I applied to.
I went from interacting face to face with founders on a weekly basis, building community for 50% of my time and supporting them in their capital raise by creating investor lists for the other 50%.
A healthy balance. Work that fulfills me and work that sustains me. I repeat — a healthy balance.
When the transition happened, near 90% of my time was spent in spreadsheets and salesforce.
For anyone that knows me — this is the death of a star that burns brightly. I became a black hole, sucking in anything I possibly could with self-destruction becoming all consuming, and inevitable.
The event horizon was my personality being critiqued. From the outside — I needed to be put together. I had to make this work. Internally, there was chaos, destruction and turmoil.
I was hyper-analyzed. Critiqued for having too many exclamation points in my emails to an investor. I was astonished. I’m 27, why are my emails being edited? I’ve been around the block before.
I was told my communication wasn’t clear. As a writer, I know how to clearly communicate. I started to second guess myself.
Was this a me issue?
I was given 3 strikes for making a few mistakes within. my. first. year. of. employment. Steep learning curve? Possibly.
But where was my teacher? I have questions that aren’t being answered. I tried to raise my hand.
I was never managed, I was told to manage myself. And to manage up. AFTER, I was told there’s a real possibility of me leaving the company.
Look — I can do that. I’ve done that for 4 years. I’ve herded the metaphorical cats and been successful at it. This just was not what I signed up for.
Demotivation began to stack up.
I began to compromise my identity for stability even more. When the end neared, I was ChatGPT’ing ‘how to write more corporate sounding emails’ to appease a manager that was never going to give me an honest shot at course correction. Even those emails were critiqued.
I don’t believe that there was anything I could do. After all, trust had been broken and that’s incredibly hard to repair. I recognize that.
In the end — the conversations in the last few weeks of my employment led me to where I am today.
I say this in earnest, I have a LOT of respect for my previous manager. I have no animosity, nor spite. I wish them the best and truly know that me being in that role was going to prevent them from building the team they aspire to build.
The job was hindering me from being who I was. Who I desperately needed to become. And quite frankly, corporations don’t give a fuck about that.
I do not believe that is something a first time manager has the ability to recognize, unless they’re incredibly good with people.
I am thankful for the leadership that was helping both myself, and my manager, navigate this weird time. It was established that I was good fit for the company personality wise, but the function was not right.
And in the end we separated very amicably. There was no place for me there. I do not know if there ever will be. And I do not know if I’ll ever wish to return. I’ve come to peace with that. I am becoming more.
The safety net I had in the most expensive city in America had been yanked. I was given just two weeks of severance.
(I negotiated keeping my laptop — something everyone should consider because often companies don’t keep them and just return them)
Today:
I was put on a course to truly take a look at who I am and what I was missing.
Something that is. of. no. concern. to. a. corporation. But should be.
I had become so consumed with my job that I was trying to cradle a miscarriage of a career. Something that died before it ever really truly started.
Something that was never for me. And not that I couldn’t do it — but in 20 years, the person that I would become, would hate myself every time I looked in the mirror.
The 8 year old Colin would whisper in my ear ‘Why did you ever stop imagining?’
What was I missing the last year? Why didn’t I feel like myself? Why was I chasing someone else’s idea of who I am? Who are you?
I was missing my art. I was missing my expression. I was told to change my personality for a job. I was leaning too far into technology and startups and venture capital.
Honestly — I’m conflicted. I love those topics. However they’re the root of many societal issues. I think they can be both a tool for good and a catalyst for oppression.
The oppressive boxing up my identity, and many other’s identity as well. We’re wrapped tightly with a corporate bow, shipped off to some ‘fulfillment’ center, never to be delivered to it’s final destination.
I no longer took photos. I no longer explored how to make my craft better. I no longer built community. I was anxious all. of. the time. I didn’t take myself on dates. I saw movies sure — but as a way to cope, rather than pure enjoyment.
I did not write. I wrote because I was sad, emotional, or needed release. Rather than for the pure desire and necessity to write. I was blocked.
I am, and always will be an artist. Whether I’m employed or unemployed.
But. Corporations don’t care. My job didn’t care. Your job doesn’t care.
Toward the end — what cared were people. My people did. When my friends, my work family, knew what was going on — I was given some incredible advice.
The advice: Every place in society needs a creative. Every space in this little rock we’re floating on needs someone who will be willing to step outside of the mold that 100s of years have created. Someone who doesn’t ‘quite fit in’ with what is expected. Thank you Lais.
It may be uncomfortable for both parties involved at first, but its necessary. IF you prune those odd colored flowers before they’re ready to take root — what you get is a white picket fence, square cut hedge, neighborhood of a society where there’s absolutely nothing interesting about it at all.
Like I said before, your job is the least interesting thing about you. I am more interested in you.
Jobs, Identity, and Deconstruction.
My job was the least interesting thing about me — even though I had placed it as my #1 priority.
I still have it up there as a priority because it provides me with a sense of security, however I am no longer placing it as who I am.
Do I care that I find a job in VC? No.
Do I care that I find a job? Yes.
Am I VC Bro? No. In fact — I've always considered myself the anti-vc vc bro. It’s what made so many people in the space want to be my friend. I had something that was lacking in the space. Something different. I firmly believe that.
I was, and never will be, a suit and tie tied a bit too tight kind of individual. Polos will never be my main shirt. And I will be tatted head to toe, with piercings in my ears and nose.
I looked more like the folks they wanted to invest in than I did themselves.
I had personality. Interests outside of tech. Creativity. Style. Fashion. Love. Emotion. I appreciate a very healthy work life balance.
I did not feel grey, dull, or know the ins and outs of Venture Finance. I knew enough to be dangerous and enough to do my job. But I was not, and never want to be, an expert on these topics. I admit that.
What was I? I was me. Until I wasn’t.
And now I’m deconstructing that. I’m creating more than I ever have. I’m motivating myself. I do not need to be led to water to drink.
I am learning for the sake of learning. And I’m sipping curiosity very slowly. I drank from a firehose for the last 5 years. And never once did a drop of water make it down my gullet.
I am developing creative skills. Hard skills that will help me in what fills my soul. Creation.
I learned to edit videos, I’m learning how writing platforms work, I’m learning creative direction. I want to learn how to design (or rather re-learn because I learned that in high school).
Will I go back into tech? Yes — but not because I consider myself a tech bro.
It’s because I know there is stability to be found there. For the most part. And I need stability as part of my identity. I am not ashamed to admit that. My creativity is chaotic enough, I don’t need my income to be the same.
I am deconstructing what it means to be. And I am enjoying every part of it.
To Whom It May Concern
I am speaking to employers, to employees, and to anyone who will listen.
You should be concerned about an identity crisis that has took place within profession for the last 100, 200, 300 years.
I watched Taxi Driver the other day and what was said there still rings true today. ‘I’m a man, I go to work, I drive a taxi, I provide for my family, I push these feelings aside.’ Or something like that.
I think this is dangerous. I think it’s dangerous to an individual. We were farmers, cultivators, craftsmen, creators. Out of necessity. Today — professions are expansive, necessity is not. We’ve now the ability to think more deeply about who we are.
Anyone can be a philosopher today. Anyone can express themselves how they want to. But professional life has not caught up.
Corporations say they want someone who can think outside of the box. But in reality, they want someone who can think just inside the box enough that it touches the freshest corners that haven’t been beat up by the system’s delivery driver who took too sharp a turn in the wrong direction.
If they truly wanted someone to stir the pot — they’d never operate effectively, or rather they’d sell to an investment bank so they can get unboxed, reorganized, repacked, and shipped off somewhere else while charging a delivery fee of $1B+.
To my employees: you are more than your work. You should care more about yourself than your work. Because your employer cares more about your work than they do about you.
Advice that I’ve seen recently: ‘We’re just on one big floating rock, forgetting to CC Brenda in my last email ain’t gonna change that’
Sorry Brenda — you’re not that important in the grand scheme of things. But you want to know what is important, Brenda? Your identity. I hope you recognize that.
Be more than your title. Be more than your job. Find peace in your life. And don’t feel anxious about your work.
It’s not that serious — but your life is. And what brings you joy is.
I hope you enjoy your work, because if you don’t. Those 90,000 hours are gonna fly by and you’ll regret every last minute spent.
To Whom It May Concern — it concerns me. I believe you are more than your title. I believe you are here for a reason. And I choose to believe that you’re more interesting than what the surface may tell me. Or what you did the last 20 years for your career.
I love you, thank you for reading, and I’ll see YOU, not your job, next week.
No Positivity Posts today. This article is long enough.
Much luv,
colin scott mortemore
(bet some of u besties didn’t even know my middle name. fake bitches. we ain’t even friends are we?)
Ps. if you’ve not checked out my poetry on Medium you should. A whole 75 other people like it and so should you. Click here for my deepest darkest secrets.
i haven’t read all of it yet…but yeah fuck a job. i refuse to believe that’s my life’s purpose, from what i can glean im in a similar situation to you and i say keep imagining, keep believing, it will come.