We Need To Talk About Adam

 We need to talk about Adam. No, not that Adam, I’ve embarrassed that Adam enough. It’s time to embarrass my new Adam and hopefully it doesn’t get me fired. Because this Adam’s my boss.

People have different triggers. One of mine happens to be work. I work myself up into such a tizzy about work sometimes I spin myself into fun things like insomnia, paranoia, and a super intense game of Gabbie bashing that leaves me metaphorically bruised. I’m trying to say I have a complicated relationship to work and my brain’s perception of worthiness. And how I walk a tightrope of creativity between the two. Perpetually hoping not to fall.

I imagine going back to work is nervy for almost every new mom. It certainly was for me. There are so many questions that run through your mind: Will my child be okay? Will I be okay? How will I juggle everything? Can I keep my job despite having to care for my child when they’re sick? Will my heart break in two? Will I push myself too hard and burn out? Is this a game I will ultimately lose because the deck is rigged and the house always wins?

When my mat leave was winding down, I knew one thing, my current job wasn’t a great fit. The people were lovely, but I felt constricted. My goals didn’t align with the company’s. It felt like a sweater that juuuust fit when I was pregnant but post-partum me was ripping its seams. I told them I’d consider coming back but only in September once Ruth had a secure spot in the daycare we wanted. They told me they wouldn’t hold my job. So, they made my decision easy. I quit.

I simply couldn’t go back to a job I didn’t want and who didn’t want me enough to hold my position an extra few months.

After talking to my first ad boss, Randy Stein, founding partner of the now defunct Grip and just the menschiest mensh that ever mensched, we agreed my time with Ruth at this early age was more important than working a job I didn’t love and didn’t love me.

It was March. Ruth was 19 months old. Thomas and I agreed we could swing me not working until September. We decided I would start looking for a gig that excited me in September. In September. Not long. Nope. Easy. Right?

So, in true Gabbie fashion, I started applying to random jobs the next day. Thomas was understandably annoyed. ‘Why can’t you stick to a plan? We made a plan! What about the plan?!”.

I saw a recruiter post something on LinkedIn. I’d never met him before but something about his post made me reach out.

“Hi Gary,

I’m a copywriter coming off mat leave. I’m looking for a new role. Do you have time for a chat? Looking forward to hearing back from you.

Cheers,

Gabbie”

“Hi Gabbie.  

I do have a Copywriter role open right now.  Looking for a talented, conceptual thinker.  My client is an agency in Halifax. Don't worry, you can work remotely, which might be good for you if you have a little one at home!  Can you email me your portfolio to xxx@xxxx.com?  I'll be happy to take a look. Full transparency we have a writer shortlisted and the ECD is going to decide on next steps this Monday. So, email me over the weekend and I'll send you back the agency details. Then, if it sounds interesting, we can chat tomorrow or Sunday. How does that sound?

Gary”

So, that weekend Gary and I chatted on the phone. He was incredibly kind and supportive, just what a mom needs when she’s stepping back into the professional world. He told me he read my blog (!!!) and loved it. That he was now personally invested in me, Ruth, and me getting the job in Halifax.

Who knew a little blog could make such a big impact. But it did. It’s helped me in many ways, one of which was leading me to Adam the 2nd.

Now, I must emphasize how jaded I had become as an actor. I dealt with people I didn’t respect who held the keys to roles and my future. I felt powerless, icky, and unseen. As well as forgotten and kind of pathetic begging people to invest in me as a commodity of human emotion. It felt gross and after so many years of boundaryless wanting it corroded my spirit, sense of hope, and self. Not until I got into advertising did I feel a sense of belonging or respect. And even then, I worked in some agencies that focused on KPIs over creativity. Brass tax over raising the creative bar. I hadn’t found the right fit yet. Which, anyone who goes ahead and buys those on sale half-a-size-too-small pair of shoes understands: even if it’s a good deal, fit is everything.

Gary sets up my interview with Adam. And I can’t speak for him, though I do constantly at work, the connection was pretty instant. We just got each other. His authenticity leapt off the screen. We talked about everything besides advertising. My past as an actor. My journey into motherhood. How it changed me. The internal work I was doing.

“I’m interested in the sticky stuff.” I told him. “Like, what happens when clients get their backs up? How do we find common ground? How can we all let our egos chill and realise we want the same thing? How do I create from a place of joy?”

At some early point in the conversation Adam told me he’s a lesbian folk singer inside. Which is, of course, when I fell in love with him. And my affection for him continues to grow every fuckin day.

I know this sounds like some next-level brown nosing, which I guess it would be if it wasn’t so genuine. But, this fucking guy changed my life and even some of my beliefs.

When I say my relationship with my boss is one of my most secure attachments, I’m not exaggerating.

Adam was there during one of the toughest transitions of my life. He made it as seamless as it could have possibly gone.

And he still supports me and Ruth. He doesn’t breathe down my neck or micromanage. He champions my work and supports my well-being. He is emotionally consistent. He is kind. And most importantly, he makes me better. He understands my strengths and supports me through my challenges. He scrutinizes the work but never me. He elevates my ideas and is always there to catch me when I’m stuck or overwhelmed.

When I came to him with a big creative idea last year he just said, “let’s go do this fucking thing”. It’s planned to launch in October.

He edits my ramblings down to coherence. He nips and tucks ideas into something polished and refined. He isn’t too big to take on any job. And takes things off my plate when it gets too full. He understands I have to take care of Ruth when she’s ill and even lovingly welcomes her into meetings. He listens to me whine when my ideas aren’t picked and tells me to keep going. He lets me cook.

I didn’t think it was possible. To find the right place, the right kind of work, and the right boss? I used to wax poetic about values and not staying in toxic situations but hey, we all have to make a living. I couldn’t always put my thoughts to action. And sometimes we don’t have the luxury of waiting to find our Adam.

But I was lucky. I am lucky. And it’s important to say it when we feel it. And I’ve been feeling it every day since I started at M5.

At our annual review, I felt incredibly seen. He understands how I work and my process. The fact that he can see me kicking the shit out of myself and say, “how can we help you stop doing that?”, is next level.

Many bosses and coaches want people who will stop at nothing to get excellence. Even if it’s destructive to the individual. They see hunger and passion and fixate on fueling that fire no matter the cost. Not Adam. He values his people more than their output. And because of that he gets our output.

Not only does he listen to me whine about how tired I am, how fucking long potty training is taking (that’s a whole other blog post btw), how I’ve been sleeping on a thermarest on Ruth’s floor because she’s decided to start shrieking in the night, again—he actually cares.

He picks me up from the airport when I come to Halifax and keeps me company. We sing in the car and shoot the shit.

Sometimes, because I’m me, I imagine he’s mad at me for some made-up reason my brain has concocted. But he always comes at me with the same calm, cool energy. It’s incredibly reassuring.

I could go on, really, this doesn’t scratch the surface of the shit this fucking guy does.

I bring all this up not to brag but inspire. If you’re worrying about making that calculated risk, if you feel like you’re in the wrong place, if you think good bosses and good fits don’t exist, neither did I. I’m not Beyonce, I’m not gonna tell you to quit your job. But maybe reach out and see what’s out there for you. I’m so grateful I did.

And, yeah, I’m well aware my Adam could have written this whole thing with 1000 fewer words and much less hyperbole. He’s that good.