There’s a certain type of corporate shapeshifter — the kind that flips allegiance faster than a McDonald’s drive-thru window hands out fries. And if you’ve worked in a high-stakes office long enough, you know exactly the type I’m talking about.
This week, she struck again.
She crashed the PR interview — one I had teed up, built out, prepped behind the scenes — and took my seat. Literally. Figuratively. Boldly. She texted her new boss, the same one convinced he stole my job, mid-interview like it was a team huddle. And she tried to jump into the CEO’s post-podcast convo like she’d been part of the strategy all along.
Let’s be honest: her volume was turned up to 11. Like being loud equates to being impactful. Like trying really, really hard in public cancels out cutting corners in private. I watched her lean all the way in — the gesturing, the forced laughter, the borderline audition energy. She wanted to be seen. And she was.
But here’s the kicker — after all that noise, the CEO walked away from that interaction and circled back. To me.
He came to my desk later and asked how I thought it went. Asked about reach numbers. He didn’t want theater — he wanted facts. I gave them. Clearly. Concisely. No puffed-up praise, no bitterness either. Just the data. And a simple “good job.”
Because sometimes the most powerful move is being unbothered and undeniable.
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But let me be honest.
I’m tired.
Tired of playing the game when people cheat at it and still get rewarded.
Tired of showing up with strategy while others show up with noise.
Tired of the fake loyalty, the performative camaraderie, the backchannels and sideways glances.
There’s a version of this corporate game where you keep your head down, let others spin, and keep producing. But when you’re drained? When you’ve watched your seat get taken and your name erased while someone else repackages your work and parades it around like it’s original? That game starts to feel like a scam.
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So, what should you donate when you find yourself here?
• Donate your ego — but not your worth. Let them have the spotlight if that’s what they need. You know your value. You don’t need applause to validate your impact.
• Donate your expectation of fairness. It’s not a meritocracy. It’s a circus. Act accordingly.
• Donate your desire to be liked. Instead, be respected. Be remembered. Be real.
• And above all, donate your attachment to the outcome. Because you can’t control how the game plays out — but you can control whether you let it change who you are.
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I’m not bitter. I’m awake.
I’m not silenced. I’m just strategic.
I don’t need to scream. I just need to stay standing.
Let the drive-thru traitors flip their script. I’m writing a whole new one — and it doesn’t require stealing someone’s chair to be heard.
