An Open Office Forced Me to Eat Lunch in My Car (And Made Me Better at My Job)
Finding sanctuary in a silver Honda

I didn’t set out to become the office weirdo who ate lunch in their car, but corporate survival sometimes means finding a place to hide. A silver Honda became my lunchtime sanctuary in 2004, complete with crumbs between the seats and a view of the sprawling suburban office park. The decision stemmed from pure survival …

I’m a Childfree Therapist in a Mother-Knows-Best World
Why my empathy doesn’t require motherhood

A young mother sits across from me, dark circles betraying her exhaustion. She absently bounces an invisible baby—a muscle memory from months of soothing her colicky infant. Between halting descriptions of overwhelm and doubt, she asks the question I’ve learned to anticipate: “Do you have children?” The words hang in the air. A familiar tightening …

My Mentor’s Career Advice Made Me Part of the Problem
I thought she was protecting me. Instead, I became what I feared.

Diane had a way of making even a casual coffee meeting feel like a battlefield strategy session. The espresso machine hissed behind us as she dissected my latest career mistake. I’d shown empathy to a struggling team member, offered flexibility when she was going through a divorce. “Never expose yourself like that,” Diane said, stirring …

My Childhood Trauma Gets Me Great Performance Reviews
They call it leadership, I call it survival

My technical architecture diagrams mirror my childhood drawings — everything in its box, every connection mapped, no surprises allowed. In design reviews, I track micro-expressions like I once tracked my father’s moods. The senior developer’s slight hesitation becomes a red flag. The product manager’s tightened jaw signals incoming conflict. My colleagues praise my foresight. My …

I Said No to Bigger, Better, Newer — It Was Weirdly Controversial
Choosing what I love over what I’m supposed to want

In the office parking lot, my colleague circled my ten-year-old Honda like it was a crime scene. “When are you finally going to upgrade?,” he asked, gesturing at his new BMW. I could have laughed. I could have shrugged. I could have pretended I hadn’t heard him. Instead, I looked him dead in the eye …

What Happens When Your Professional Self Slowly Disappears
The unexpected grief of retirement

Two months. That’s all I have left before retirement. My office walls are slowly emptying. Awards. Project photographs. Memories stripped away, box by box. Each item feels like a piece of my identity being carefully dismantled. I’ve spent a lifetime building this version of myself. The successful professional. The reliable colleague. The one who could …