It is not just lonely at the top, it’s cut throat.
No one is safe.
I have made it into “the room” three times. That oh so coveted position that few brown women hold. Climbed up the ivory tower, took every opportunity to be seen, heard, and considered. And every time, I wish I had ever been let in.
Because that is what it takes, for someone to open the door for you. You cannot barge in, or ask to be in the room. Someone within has to see you from inside and consider you worthy, valuable, and useful for the “vision,” “cause,” or whatever that group upholds.
No one tells you that once in the room, despite the salary increase, regardless of the perks (walking in late at your leisure), when you are in that leadership space, no one is there for you. Neither to teach you, to warn you, to care for you, or to mentor you.
Once you leave that room, no one pities you, no one understand you, or want to talk to you for fear of what information you might bring into “the room.”
You become an island, and despite the rest of leadership being their own island, no one visits or tries to work together, because at the end of the day, it is your neck or theirs.
Like a reality show, you can be voted off at any moment. The alliances formed before you arrived and no one wants to bet on you.
You learn quickly how to survive. You prepare before each meeting and you take diligent notes (what you can understand), but none of that matters. Because to be ready is to stay ready. Whatever idea, thought, or moment you think you own, that time is not your own. Everyone pounces for a time to talk, be heard, respond, give their “two cents”, be the “devils advocate.” I neither begged for your change nor do you have a law degree to represent anyone. Yet, they will all “weigh in,” and what you thought made you special, and be seen once upon a time, becomes the reason you are weak, too sensitive, too outspoken, too much.
You soon realize, your joy is gone and nothing, no amount of money will want you to stay, so you drift off out to see and hope for the next current to take you, hopefully someone safer, more kind.
As predicted, you get voted off. Your throat is the first one on the block. Nothing you created, collaborated, or inspired matters. The bottom line matters.
What those in the room do not realize is that they one day will be next. No one is safe from the bottom line. When decisions are made, your character, your personal life, perception, and assumptions are made on your behalf and what were once personality traits become the reason you must leave the room.