When The Shoe Doesn’t Fit

In my last blog post, I mentioned that I would soon reveal why I quit my internship. Well, this is that post. 

I have a bad habit. Well, I have a lot of bad habits, but this one is kind of the worst. Do you know that feeling you get when your gut just knows something isn’t right? When alarm bells are sounding off in your head telling you to not do whatever you’re about to do but you do it anyways? I do. It happens often actually.

My intuition is spot on most of the time but rarely do I ever listen to it until it’s too late. I think it’s because I naturally doubt myself. So, when I know something’s wrong, I justify. I find all of the reasons as to why it could all just “be in my head” or “maybe I’m misinterpreting something.” Most often, you’ll hear me say, “Let’s just give it the benefit of the doubt.” 

Here’s what I’ve realized about this, though. That phrase is such a waste of time. When used too liberally. There’s always a little room to be given, but it can’t be let out of control.

When I know something isn’t right, I will continue to use these phrases as an excuse to push through when sometimes that isn’t the solution. If you know it isn’t right, why force on a shoe that doesn’t fit? It becomes a colossal waste of time for everyone involved because, at some point, it will become too much, and you’ll be forced to let go anyways. It’ll just hurt that much more.

I could give you so many examples. 

A friendship: You’ve realized you’re just not interacting the same way you used to. Your paths are finally crossing, going in two separate directions. Holding on and ignoring your gut feeling isn’t going to save your friendship, but it will make your friend break up more negative. A blowing point will appear, and there’s no going back from that. Trust me.

A relationship: Same deal. If you can see the train crashing. Telling the train to give the wall it’s about to crash into “the benefit of the doubt” only prolongs your future suffering. The train’s crashing, jump off. 

A job: Say you’ve been hired at a new job, and you’re just not feeling the pieces click into place. The more time you wait to confirm whether or not it truly is a wrong fit, the more time you are taking away from the right one. It wastes your supervisor’s time training you, and it wastes your time being trained for a job you know you won’t have for long. Also, it takes away time that you could be using to get trained for the right job. Or maybe the job that you already have is no longer working for you, same difference.

And there are many more examples I could give you, I just can’t think of any right now, but the concept is in place nonetheless.

When we prolong the inevitable, we are only harming ourselves and, if you care, harming the other people involved. You can debate with yourself all you want. Weigh the pros and cons, write in journals, and meditate on it but, most likely, your answer will be the same. Our gut instincts aren’t that inaccurate. Even if the situation you’re in (relationship or otherwise) might be a good situation for you in the future that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good for you right now. 

Timing is everything. If it’s not on your side at the moment, it’s probably just not meant to be. Or maybe it is, just for a future version of yourself. (The movie “Serendipity” with Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack is a great example of this concept, and it’s also on Netflix.)

For example, my internship. Before even starting, I had a weird feeling in my gut, which shows how much I don’t listen to myself. Something deep down was telling me that this was just going to be temporary and that I had to push through. First of all, if you start anything with the mindset of “it’s just a temporary thing,” you might want to reconsider everything because part of you is already screaming, “I’M DONE.”

Either way, I did what I usually do, and I said nothing and started my internship. 

Guys, when I tell you there was some false advertising in here, my goodness! Before joining, I was promised the following:

• I would have complete creative control of the social media posts; I would be allowed to incorporate video content.

• I would have no set schedule (as long as I got my work done, I could work whenever I wanted).

• And it was implied that I wasn’t going to be creating posts right away.

Here’s a quick break for some industry knowledge. As a social media manager, you are responsible for posting and captioning content for social media. You are responsible for engaging on these apps (liking, commenting, and sharing) and for the consistency needed for the algorithm (i.e., maintaining a posting schedule; the more frequently you post at regular times, the more your content is shown to people at those times). So, in maintaining this consistency, content is usually planned for two weeks in advance. Meaning, when I was hired, I should’ve been making posts that would be shared two weeks after my start date. That was not the case.

Not only did they not have a bank of usable content (aka fluff posts that have just been left in the drafts that I could use when necessary), they wanted me to be two weeks ahead while also starting me two weeks behind. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? 

It seemed like they were in a rush to get me hired but were wildly unprepared for my presence from the start. Because not only was I starting two weeks behind schedule, with the eventual task of pushing myself two weeks ahead, but I also was not given a style guide to complete my tasks.

Another quick bit of industry knowledge, a style guide is a graphic designer’s rosetta stone. For the purposes of this position, I was one (another red flag, ordinarily the graphic designer and social media manager are not wrapped into the same position). A style guide gives the designer the parameters for working within, with fonts, colors, tone, and templates. 

So, let’s recap. I had just started this new job (did I mention it was two weeks before I started grad school?), and not only was I behind, but I was without a guide to complete my projects within their companies style. 

The next revelation that I could not just work whenever I wanted was another disappointment. I took this unpaid job because they said I would have the flexibility to both do my schooling and hold my other paid job. Well, upon my arrival, I was told I needed to be available when everyone else was available…you know, like a regularly scheduled job. For context, I was told in my interview that, and I quote, “You could work in the middle of the night if you want to. As long as your work is done, it’s fine.” 

So looking at the position realistically, where my only requirement was to create content and post it, it makes sense that I can work whenever and still have time to do everything else during the day. It’s a wonder they didn’t mention that I would have to be present for multiple mid-day meetings throughout the week. Again, not so flexible, my friends. 

It was three days after I started when I found out that they had had a styling guide the whole time. They had just forgotten to give it to me. That was my breaking point. 

I gave them the benefit of the doubt when my posts were gone over with a fine-toothed comb, nitpicking over insignificant details. I gave them the benefit of the doubt when my use of videos was put down and questioned. I gave them the benefit of the doubt when I had to take part in meetings I didn’t even know I was supposed to attend. 

Most people would say, “You only gave it three days? That’s not long enough. You should’ve pushed through.” And that’s where I will call B.S. As an unpaid intern, it is not my job to prepare materials that will be helpful for me. Bottom line, it’s not my job to do the job of a paid employee when I am not paid. 

Internships are also a two-way street, I give you free labor, and you provide me with expertise and connections. I was receiving neither. I am not going into tech startups after I graduate, nor am I going into social media managing. If anything, I was teaching them. My supervisor knew next to nothing about social media. They hired me specifically because I have a larger following on Instagram, yet they wouldn’t let me do what I needed to do to make it successful. 

So, that morning I sent an email. A very, very, very long email to both my supervisor and the CEO of the company. I explained what I was struggling with and wrote that I was open to finding solutions. About ten minutes after I hit send, though, I thought to myself, “Do I really want to fix it?” 

If they come back and speak pretty words about making all of these changes, will it make a difference? Will I still feel the same about them? Should I continue to give them the benefit of the doubt?

The answer was no. 

I was past the point of making excuses and finding reasons to justify staying in a position that didn’t feel right. To me, I was taking responsibility, owning my mistake, and letting go of something that was only going to cause me stress. 

I had enough on my plate as it was, and extending what should have been a 20-hour a week commitment to close to 30 or 40 hours was not something I was about to commit to. Overextending myself to fill the position was not beneficial to anyone because, ultimately all of my work would suffer if I was biting off more than I could chew. There’s a quote by Brené Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston and bestselling author, that describes this feeling more eloquently.

I’ve learned that gasping for air while volunteering to give others CPR is not heroic. It’s suffocation by resentment.

And it is. I’ve offered help while I was drowning myself enough times already. My growth, in this area, is recognizing the people who take advantage of this and letting them go, which is what I did. There’s plenty more to this story that could easily vilify this group of out-of-touch people, but that’s not my goal.

My goal here is to share that self-care comes in many forms. In this case, I was able to clearly advocate for myself, not accept when I was asked to do the unreasonable, and let go of a position that wasn’t worth it. I didn’t do this without a tremendous amount of anxiety because I was about ready to throw up every time I sent an email response. 

Anxious people like myself, we feel like quitting is a death sentence. An admission of defeat, but whose defeating who? Are we being defeated by the job/relationship/whatever the hell your metaphor is that is draining us dry, or are we doing it to ourselves? I would assume it’s the latter. 

We’re so scared of what will happen if we let go of something that isn’t right that we refuse to take the leap towards something that is. This mentality doesn’t help anyone in the long run. If we resign ourselves to thinking that we have to hold onto something to avoid admitting it’s not right, we’re only wasting our own time.

It takes courage to stop, slow down, and say, “This isn’t right. I’m done.” Courage does not come when you say something with ease. Courage is present when you speak out when you don’t want to. When you put your foot down and say no more.

Acknowledging that something isn’t right isn’t admitting defeat. It’s just recognizing that there is something out there that’s a better fit for you, and there’s a better fit for the space you are now leaving open. 

Even in relationships. There’s a reason why I’ve never really dated anyone. One, because I’m terrified of getting close to people and, two, because the timing has never been right. I’ve not once gotten close to somebody and gone, “Wow, I can see this going forward.” And it’s not always because our personalities don’t mesh. Sometimes it’s because I’m self-aware enough to realize that I’m not ready. 

But I refuse to hold onto someone, even if I like them, when I know I am not in a space that could handle a relationship because that’s unfair. It’s unfair to that person and the person that could potentially be their right fit for that time, and it’s unfair to me. Because how much growth can you really do on yourself when you’re with someone? Yes, you can grow together, but what if you aren’t in the same place?

I have an analogy I use a lot in cases like this. People often refer to the phrase “getting on the same page” but, what if you aren’t even in the same book? What if you’re in two different sections of the library? I apologize for all of the rhetorical questions, but it’s true. Sometimes you just aren’t there, and sometimes, even if you were on the same page, in the beginning, you end up in different books at the end.

It’s ok, though. I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong. I’ve lost a large percentage of my friend group to this phenomenon, so I now interact mostly through blog posts and talking to my books. But I’m happy, most of the time, which is a tremendous difference from where I was at pre-pandemic. I still look back fondly on these people and places, and sometimes I do miss them, but I also know it’s for the best that I’m no longer with them. 

When something no longer fits, there’s no shame in finding something else that does. 

I know this blog post was supposed to be about my internship, which I’ve now hijacked for a lesson in people, but I do that most of the time anyway. So I won’t apologize. I think we’ve all got a taste of this lesson throughout the pandemic, but I think we all need a reminder sometimes. 

Fast forward to today, I still haven’t found an internship to replace the one I left, and I don’t mind, actually. Though life comes around to overwhelm me every so often, I’m still managing better than I would if I was doing the internship on top of everything else. The best part? I still have time to do stuff like writing blog posts or filming reels for my Instagram. 

Those may sound silly when comparing it with an internship that would fill space in my resume but, to me, it’s necessary. If I had no time for myself, I’d go a little crazy. I mean, if you read my last post, you know that I already have gone a little crazy, but the point still stands. 

Sometimes making the decisions you don’t want to and following your gut instinct works out for the better. Sometimes the shoe doesn’t fit, and that’s ok. Keep shopping.