The Art of Caring Less: Lessons Learned as an Intern

Sitting in between my parents in the moving van en-route to London, early-morning in late August, I was less nervous than I anticipated I would be. The day had arrived: I was making the big move up to the big city to start my year’s internship. A city that had always intimidated me a little; with its labyrinth of an underground train system and the fact everyone seemed to be robotically sped-up. Yet, I felt more excited than fearful. I was eager to live out my fantasies of being the ‘working city girl’, set to be busy making my career moves and learning from within a swanky Greater London office; wearing blazers and clip-clopping in heels with a Starbucks coffee in hand (oh, all the clichés) Independent living! Working woman! Here I come!

Fast-forward to me on the brink of a melt-down outside the venue of an event in early November. I had had what felt like an accumulation of emotional battery and stress during the previous two months, not to mention a boss that seemed to resent me. I tried my best, worked my hardest, aimed for as many opportunities as I could put myself forward for, and in hindsight on that dreary evening – after a whole day of running around trying to please my colleagues – it all felt like it had achieved me nothing but knocks. Knocks to my confidence; to my motivation; to my willingness to show up; ultimately to my mental health.

In that moment, crying down the phone to my mum in the middle of Prince Regent underground station: I realised I had a choice. I was facing two avenues to choose from: I could either cave and crumble under all the office emotional warfare, or I could quit feeling sorry for myself, stand tall, strengthen my outer layer, and drive forward head first with determination to get the most out of my internship: no matter whom it felt like was trying to de-route me.

So, what do you think I did?

In this blog I’m going to share some of the invaluable life lessons I learned in the subsequent eight months that followed, and how turning down my ‘people-pleasing-ominator’ was the key tool that ensured my survival. Because, if by chance you’re reading this because you’re in a similar place to where I was then, I want this to be a comfort that you will be ok! You will be looking back on all this one day soon with a sense of pride that you weathered the storm. And maybe I can give you a few tools to help you to do so.

I’ve always cared a lot, it’s both my most proud trait and detrimental vice. But my time in London taught me how I had the power to control my own threshold: who I gave my time and energy to, and how liberating it is to recognise when to remove yourself from emotional investment in a situation.

Be your own damn support system!

I learned that sometimes, those who should be ‘looking out for you’ and encouraging you towards new opportunities and accomplishments, are actually doing all they can to sabotage it behind the scenes. My boss that I mentioned earlier? Her claiming to ‘have my back’ then being followed up by completely throwing me under the bus at the event I referred to above, was key in teaching me this lesson.

I was an intern, a temporary prop in her ladder-climbing within the company, so naturally when her own mis-directions and errors were looking to threaten her reputation: she sacrificed mine in order to preserve it. How respectable (cue *sarcastic ‘thumbs up’*).

At the time, I was bitter about it. The injustice! ‘How irresponsible, selfish and just unfair!’, ‘I’m taking the fall for her mistakes!’ And the more instances like this occurred, the more hurt, and angry, I became.

But that anger and bitterness was heavy baggage to bare day-to-day. I had to drop it for my own sake of peace. So, I switched it – instead of relying on external sources to pave my way and encourage my steps, I could do it myself. What better way to practice a bit of self-love and respect, than to be your own cheerleader? One thing I could rely on that I wasn’t going to let myself down – I could try my best and trust myself in my efforts. And that could be enough support for me.

Not every social environment is going to have good air for friendships to blossom, and that’s ok

Coming from a small-town community environment, this was a tough pill to swallow. Why was it so difficult to socialise with these people? ‘Why are many of them so exclusive?’, ‘Is it me – am I unlikeable or annoying?’

The answer is likely, no. I mean – to be honest, even if you are unlikable and annoying to one person, you won’t be to another! So, this shouldn’t even be a worry. ‘Your vibe attracts your tribe’ is one of my favourite mantras.

The key issue with the office environment I was working in here, was that not many of them were very welcoming. My first few months saw my ‘new girl’ feelings vamped up to their highest levels. Of course, don’t get me wrong, there were a few that were pleasant enough to carry a conversation when it arose, but the point was this felt rare. Most of the time? I felt about as noticed in the office as the pencil pot. And for a girl who was used to being a Social Susie, this was jarring!

They also all spoke different languages, and while English was their shared second language, none of them were actually from the UK, so there were cultural divides. And being the youngest as well as the only British employee, it was inevitably difficult to ‘fit in’ to any of their office cliques.

For a while, this made the working environment stiff and stagnant. I’d make the effort with everyone – be my normal chatty, bubbly, positive self – yet feeling ‘at home’ amongst them felt like a daily uphill incline that saw no climb.

Of course, this together with the treatment from my ‘manager’ (quotation marks intended; fulfilment of the meaning of that word: questionable), led to many ego-driven thoughts like ‘what is point of me being here?’ I felt as though I was wasting my time: dedicating it to an environment that was just making me feel trodden-on, undervalued and insignificant.

I say these thoughts were ‘ego-driven’ because something I have learned is the ‘ego’ is used to describe the part of us that seeks importance and significance. And when these reassurances seem absent, it throws its toys out the pram in a tantrum-panic demanding the acknowledgement we think we’re entitled to. Like there’s a fear we’re fading from existence or something if we don’t receive it.

The truth is, I was insignificant: to them! I brought no real extra value to their lives, and realistically who was I to expect I would? They’re all living their lives, and their morning coffee mug offered them more meaning than I did. My feelings of social exclusion, magnified by the fact these put me on an unfamiliar standing, had caused me to lose sight of why I was really there: to gather my own experiences. To learn as much as I could for the sake of my future career pursuits: to enrich my own existence!

Once I realised this, I learned to care less about what my fellow office-tenants thought of me. What did it matter? I was only there until the summer, and in the meantime my only focus was to learn where I could and strengthen my CV and portfolio. Ironically, once this pressure was lifted from my shoulders, I did make friends! I naturally fell into a small group of a few people that I really got on with. We met up at lunch times, had our banter-ous moments to uplift those sluggish afternoons, and without even noticing we had our own little clique.

See – your vibe does attract your tribe. Once you relax and emanate independence through caring less, your true personality shines through, and allows those who will fit as your friends to find you.

The step out of your comfort zone is uncomfortable, the run once you’ve passed the threshold is liberating!

Late November, a few days after the melt-down I entered into this blog from, I was invited to join the company on their annual Conference in January: this year being hosted in Portugal.

I was a cocktail of emotions. Flattered they’d asked, slightly resentful it may have been just to compensate for the treatment I’d received 3 days prior, but mostly – cripplingly anxious.

What’s worse, my little friendship group in the office wouldn’t be attending: they were either in a different department, or hadn’t even been invited.

Going abroad for a whole week with people that all basically felt like strangers? And even better – we’d be sharing rooms. I could think of nothing I wanted to do less. My anxieties came out sideways over the Christmas break, and my New Years’ was decorated with suppressed whispering reminders of the trip that was fast-approaching on my return back to work.

Two weeks before everyone was due to set off; the office was brimming with preparations and itinerary organisation, the sales teams setting up their meetings for the conference week. All the while, my thoughts were circling the drain of excuses that would get me out of this trip. Could I say I was ill? Family emergency? Passport expired? I couldn’t go on a trip with these people! I had never felt more uneasy in my life. I felt like I was completely out on my own: heading into a battlefield with no support, guidance or weapons. Trips home on the tube in the dark, wet January nights were swamped with thoughts of my dilemma: should I go? Or would I be walking into the week from hell?

However, through all this, something wasn’t accepting the option of backing out. In hindsight, that was the cause of my worry and stress, because I wasn’t seeing it as an option. I was kicking and screaming against my own arm-tugs forward, edging closer and closer to the edge of my comfort zone. The discomfort at the time was immense, but now when I look back at those moments before and after the trip? I feel nothing but pride in myself.

I rediscovered my own determination to succeed; to push myself in the face of challenges that I know will make me stronger. In situations where I was faced with a choice: to cower and retreat, or stand-up strong and push through the discomfort - forward, I knew when to do the latter. It was a cross-roads like that which prevented me from running back to my small-town home in November, and another that pushed me into realising just how strong I could be. The latter was what I needed to motivate me through the final months of my time at the company, because I had that faith in myself. I knew I could stare down trying situations and show my strength in the face of them.

If my internship had unfolded as the romanticised version of events I had moved to London envisaging, I wouldn’t be the person I am now. I’m still facing challenges in my current chapter, such that are testing my courage and self-confidence in similar ways, but thanks to those experiences I am better-equipped to manage them. I remember the things I can achieve when I care less about external influences and trust myself more, and I can push forward with that determination in myself I found back then.

So if you are currently experiencing anything that resembles my time as an intern – maybe it’s not quite so bad, maybe it’s worse for you – I hope you can see how the ways you show up for yourself now will be for the benefit of your future self. The routes you choose to take will lead you to future experiences that will serve you in ways you’ll feel grateful for, and you’ll look back and thank yourself for not giving up before it felt right to walk away. All you need is that confidence in yourself, and your own trust and support. You’ve got you! Anything external from that, that jeopardises that faith, care less!