Networking. Feeling Invisible & Overly Exposed At The Same Time

Nothing strikes fear into the very core of my soul, than the promise of “networking opportunities” at an event I really don’t want to attend but am being strongly encouraged to stop by at. No, scratch that. It’s actually ANY event with networking that leaves me feeling, well, just a bit icky.

I’m not an introvert - but I’m by no means a full-on extrovert. I happily exist in a middle ground of wanting to spend as much time on my own as possible, enjoying a quiet life, whilst also very definitely wanting to be the life and soul of all the parties BUT only at gatherings where I know all the people I’m mingling with. 

So, the thought of entering a room full of strangers, where the only connection we share is that Matt from Big HR Tech Co. has relentlessly badgered us all on email for 6 months to come along to their “next big thing in tech” event, fills me with all sorts of horror. Inevitably, I will fervently ignore the pestering emails and calls until such time that someone (usually my boss) points out that given my role, I probably should go along, once in a while, to these types of things. At which point I will then desperately try to find someone to come along with me. I mean, I won’t have to talk to anyone else if I have someone with me all day, right? And of course, it will be this point that all of my other colleagues magically have “other plans” that day. No one believes that you have a kitten naming ceremony to attend on a Wednesday in November at 8.30am Karen.

So off I schlep to these all-day monstrosities - with the promise of a “riveting” agenda, more suppliers than you’d think humanly possible to fit in a room - and 500 other people with “similar” roles to me, all desperate to make your acquaintance and add you to their LinkedIn network. And to facilitate this, half the day will be made up of a networking breakfast, two excessively long coffee breaks, an awkward stand-up buffet-style networking lunch and finally - oh goody - networking drinks at 4pm.

I know I really should be plunging headfirst and making invaluable contacts as these events - I’ve known this for the last 20 years of my career. But I’ve always, quite vigorously to be honest, shied away from it. I only ever attend these events under duress, and no one can actually make me talk to people (can they??). And if I’m on my own, you can be sure that I’ve planned my escape route by choosing the exact trains that will get me there just as the event starts - along with organising a convenient catch up with an ex-workmate, just as the event ends.

Maybe it’s because, as most people know, I’m really not passionate about my career, so standing around whilst other gush about their successes, challenges they’ve faced, how they’ve overcome them, and best practice processes on topics that I’m only passably interested in, really does bore me to tears. Or maybe it’s because the thought of wandering up to a group of people I don’t know, whilst introducing myself in a typically self-deprecating manner (along with an mildly inappropriate “do you come here often?”), hoping to be accepted into what appears to be a group of lifelong buddies, makes me want to vomit. It feels like I’m back at the first year of secondary school and I need to make friends - but am desperately afraid that I’m either going to pick the bully gang, the ludicrously sporty group, the bitchy make-up girlies - or more likely, the nerdy bunch (I guess I gravitate to what I know). Either way, I’ll be in this group until the day I die, and it will inevitably be the worst decision I’ve ever made.

Or maybe, what I’m really worried about, is being exposed as someone who only half cares about their profession and it’ll be discovered that I’ve been winging it for the past 10 years at least (though let’s be clear, I have enough knowledge to make me dangerous and apparently fool managers into my competence*, but the real experts are the people in my team who do all the heavy lifting. I’m just there to help fight their battles, protect them, ask the stupid questions, challenge and develop them - and maybe look pretty).

Now I know that a lot of people love this type of socialising and it’s hugely important for blah blah blah reason. But I know I’m not alone in feeling like this - and am pretty sure that there’s a whole army of us that just sees these things as a necessary evil. Which is where LinkedIn comes in.

I’ll be the first to admit - I have successfully secured jobs through my LinkedIn profile - and it’s always lovely to see favourite colleagues progress, achieve their career dreams and announce it to a host of people they may or may not know**. But my god, the thought of posting my own career update or a deep and meaningful analysis of the impact of Gen AI on the world of payroll processes, really makes me cringe. I should make it clear - I’m not against people making these posts, I’m fact, I’m kind of in awe of them because:

1. how do they find the time to write these things?? I don’t have time to write these blogs, let alone craft a masterful insight into the effects of Labour’s new employment reforms***.

2. I am petrified that I’m going to write something that will offend, be ignored or most horrifically, be wrong. Resulting in me being laughed at or inevitably shunned.

   
   

And here I think we’ve come to the crux of the matter once again. That damn imposter syndrome that I am apparently going to be forever afflicted with (seriously, maybe I should change my therapist - after a year of sessions, it’s obviously not helping me. My therapist on the other hand is rolling in all my hard-earned imposter cash). I obviously know what I'm doing - why shouldn't I feel confident talking about it??

So, I don’t know. To network or not network, that is the question (I think Shakespeare asked it first). I know I haven’t gone into any real detail about the benefits (am convinced there are some, I just haven’t uncovered them yet), so please don't come at me if you're an ardent networker. But I haven’t done too badly without it so far - though spoiler alert, I think that if my plans for a career shift come to fruition in the next year, I may not be able to avoid it any longer…. Guess I’d better go and find those big girl pants quick…

*if anyone I work with is reading this, please be assured I do know what I’m doing, honestly. The emphasis on my incompetence is purely for dramatic effect… crosses fingers that this explanation will be accepted

**in an effort to stay visible….or maybe it’s genuine pride and I’m just a horribly cynical person

*** sobs quietly into the void due to boredom….