When I was a both a new mother and budding entrepreneur, I often had to pump while meeting clients at their offices. When I finally found the “wellness” room, I can’t tell you how many times it was already occupied by someone seeking refuge from an open office plan. Even the conference rooms would often be filled by people who’d reserved them just to work in peace.
As a mother, I was frustrated. As an introvert, I could understand this desire to retreat into private space.
Some of us thrive on office life: the group projects, the plentiful birthday cake, the conference calls, the palace intrigue. But some people need space to work.
But for many, the modern professional office can create overwhelming sensory overload. Autism blogs are full of articles on how to cope with it, but you don’t need to be on the spectrum to feel jolted by the noise, hum, and aggressive lighting. Digital overload adds another layer. With Slack, Instagram, email, Facebook, and texting, you can be assaulted by employees on three platforms at the same time, even while they’re sitting three desks away.
Being a workplace introvert has been a struggle my entire career. Early on, the office politics, the hours, the pace, the networking, and the rules of getting ahead rubbed up against my very temperament. By the time I was 30, I had already quit nine jobs.
Finally, I quit for the final time. I realized it didn’t matter how great the work was. I was allergic to the ubiquitous fluorescent overhead lights. They gave me migraines. And as long as I had to show up and sit under those lights for ten-plus hours, I could never be happy.
Now, I’m what I call a hermit entrepreneur. I often work from bed. I turn off the phone. I pull back from social media. This doesn’t mean I’m not a hard worker: it means I need autonomy, alone time, and freedom to thrive.