My Whole Life Flashed Before My Eyes… While Negotiating My Salary

“I could always find someone much younger and more dynamic” says my potential future boss as we face-off in a negotiation that will not only determine the course of my professional career, but the backdrop of my life for the next three years. To say that I was not shaking inside would be a flat out lie. Sitting in the austere 13th floor, housing all the executive high rollers, in an office with a woman that gave me a whole speech only two weeks ago about her unfaltering engagement to female empowerment… I just wanted to throw-up. ‘Would she have said that to a man…?’ I think to myself. ‘Unfaltering engagement…? Please. More like selective engagement, all in the name of self promotion. #metooopportunist.’

“I’m not sure I understand… I am too young to be asking to be paid at the market price for this role, but not young enough to be dynamic? “

Trying to hide her irritation she retorts back with “You’re just tired. You even said it yourself, the organization has tired you.”

I give her a dubious look. I’m at loss for words…

Referring to our previous meetings, she is taking something I said to her completely out of context and using it against me! Sitting in that uncomfortable chair, I suddenly felt like I was on a date with someone telling me I was ‘damaged goods’.

Not sure of the unsettled feeling growing in my stomach, I question myself. Is she being professional? Is she allowed to say such things? Maybe this is how they negotiate in France?

Like a surprised fool, I clumsily try to justify myself. “You know, after working 7 years for a company, well it’s like a relationship…”

She cuts me off, “look, you’re just tired”, she says with a fake empathetic smile, “and I’m asking myself if you could really do this job given you’re…. current state.”

Time slows. I stare at her smudge smile mocking me from across the table.

“By the way, do you have a CV? Can you send me your CV? I want to weigh your experience and competences against the CVs of some other people I have in mind for this role.”

My insides start to boil as I officially cross into the red zone. If I was some form of artificial intelligence, you would see a flashing “systems overload” light in my vision.

In that split second, I imagined myself getting up, grabbing my chair, and making a clean sweep for her unaware privileged head, while shouting “you emotionally incompetent waste of space, you’re damn right I am tired! You made me work on a needlessly detailed job description during my short holiday break! You had me prepare another extensive strategy proposal while juggling my already heavy work load as I also grappled with the end of my relationship… and now you are asking me whether I have the energy and competence to do this job! This position wouldn’t have even existed if I hadn’t develop it!”

Can you imagine the evening headlines? “Breaking news: thirty three year old Afghan-American woman living in Paris assaults innocent boss during a work meeting. Innocent boss in critical condition. Marine le Pen calls upon the French authorities to limit the entry of educated bi-cultural expats with questionable backgrounds from other developed countries.”

Clenching my fist, I curve my violent urge. Like a mantra, I repeat to myself, ‘you are not a violent person, you are not a violent person, you are not a violent person…’ And I certainly was not going to start a career as an assailant with this charlatan. The shame and embarrassment it would bring to my adorable parents, while penalizing other minorities… most DEFINITELY not worth it.

‘Just breathe.’

I lean back into my chair, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. My heart was beating so hard against my chest that its vibrations reverberated in my ear drums.

Trying my best to compose myself, I exhale, freeing the air from the tight custody of my clenching lungs… a release that brought with it many images, many scenarios… past, present, future all meeting at a convenient crossroad for a cigarette.

I see an impressionable 26 year old young woman walking into to this building for the first time… not really sure of herself, always doubting, never feeling competent enough, not knowing much about the professional world. I see that same girl at the age of 28 walking into the office of the CEO for the first time as his Chief of Staff, the beginning of an experience exposing her to the strategic heart of this company with a visionary leader. In those exhaling seconds, I was overwhelmed with more images, more sensations… My first day at university, feeling five steps behind my very privileged classmates. I see myself, four years later, jumping for joy at the thought of knowing that I was able to get on the dean’s list before graduation. I see all my smiles after every incremental win, allowing me to lay the first building blocks of my self-confidence.

Fast-forward back to 2018, I recall the salty taste of my tears and the weight my hopelessness as I realize that I have to let go of someone I’ve loved.

The future also waves its hand to greet me. I see myself taking this role, the political implications, the long working hours, and the perverted power-play I will endure with this woman sitting across from me. I see the credibility I would receive for creating this think tank, heading Public Affairs for the organization, and being the first minority to be the head of anything for this French based international group. I also see another vision of myself… a vision of me saying no, and diving head-first into the unknown, maybe taking another job with a different company culture, or just simply taking time off to sharpen my dance steps with my own words. I see myself going back to California, and relishing in the warm embrace of my parents as they express their happiness to have me home.

And at the end of it all, I see my five year old self overhearing my father telling my mother “she is smart because she is sensitive”.

In those few seconds, I took an unexpected trip into myself only to come out of it feeling stronger. Even if it is their game, played in their stadium, with their rules, the only thing I could control is myself. And that makes me free.

Looking her straight in the eye, I give her a soft smile, “Sure, I’ll send you my updated CV”.

I get up, thank her for the meeting, and walk out of her office.

In the short term, she might have won. But in the long-term, it’s my victory. Because in the end, they’ll never have my anger, they’ll never have my integrity, and they’ll never have me.