Who Stole My Joy?

Does being professional mean being serious?

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(note: this conversation is fictional)

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KAI
"There’s moments at work, I wish I could be more myself."

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MATT
"How do you mean?"

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KAI
"Well, a good example is when I’m about to go into a meeting.
I start to tense up, and when I’m in there, I feel a switch flicks inside me."

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MATT
‍"What happens?"

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KAI
"I feel like my face goes stern. My usual relaxed, smiley expression disappears.
It’s like all joy and enthusiasm drains from my body."

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MATT
‍"Sounds heavy . . . what makes the switch flip?"

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KAI
"Well, I have to be seen as professional and serious.
I can’t sit there with a big smile on my face can I?
You can’t be laughing and joking. I have to be seen a certain way."

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MATT
‍"Ok, perhaps a big grin doesn’t work in certain meetings, but who says professional means serious?
Is it one or the other?"

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KAI
"I think so."

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MATT
‍"Because?"

‍

KAI
"Because if I’m acting relaxed or lighthearted, I worry people won’t take my work seriously."

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MATT
‍"So it sounds like the switch activates some kind of forcefield."

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KAI
"I’d not thought of it like that, but I suppose it does.
In a way, it does feel like some kind of barrier, a superpower protective shell of seriousness."

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MATT
‍"But then you don’t feel like yourself."

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KAI
"Exactly."

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MATT
‍"So what are the options?"

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KAI
"Perhaps a change in how I think about professionalism.
That being professional isn’t about being serious, but more how I’m connecting and engaging in the moment.
That perhaps it’s ok to leave the switch alone."

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MATT
‍"And what would happen then?"

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KAI
"Well I’d feel more relaxed and more my natural self.
More present, I’d probably contribute more. Focus on what’s being said. More confident even."