I’m not going to write anything specifically about Rachel Reeves today, because WOP is not a politics newsletter, but look: everyone’s talking about the Chancellor crying at work, and I write about work, and I also happen to have cried multiple times in office environments, so there’s a hook.
Crying at work sucks. It feels immensely embarrassing to have a sob in a work environment, because it immediately destabilises all the effort you’ve put in to curate your professional, powerful, cool-headed, rational, reasonable work self. We all know that everyone’s human, that crying is natural, that it’s OK to have emotions… and yet, the shame of a work-related weep persists. Every time I’ve cried at work, I have carried around the humiliation long after the tears have been wiped away.
While the ‘it’s OK to cry!’ message is overdone and perhaps not particularly helpful, what I do think is helpful to know is that if you have recently teared up at work, you are not the only one. Other people have been there before. It has been shit, but they’ve got through it and eventually the embarrassment has faded. I am one of these people. So, let me recap the crying at work incidents I can remember*.
*There have likely been more than are on this list! And isn’t the idea that I’ve forgotten them – that once they were a red hot shame and now they’ve dissolved into the ether of my shit memory – kind of comforting in itself?
When I was doing copywriting at Austin Reed I once had a panic attack in the toilets for literally no reason. That’s the reality of mental illness, folks! There was no fallout from this. I had a real spiral in the cubicle, thinking oh god everyone’s going to notice that I’ve been away from my desk for ages. No one noticed. Or if they did, no one said anything.
Also at that job I went for drinks with the whole team and didn’t eat enough, so when I’d had two drinks I proceeded to faint, fall over, and throw up on myself. I then cried while trying to tell one of the big bosses that I wasn’t drunk, I swear, I just have a weird blood sugar issue where I faint sometimes. I was loaded into a taxi and cried the whole way home.
In a different job: I had a conversation with an editor and someone from the HR department about how their behaviour was upsetting me. I was so frustrated trying to explain why what they were doing wasn’t acceptable that I started crying, which seemed to terrify them into ending the conversation as speedily as possible. While crying I kept trying to say: “I’m not crying because I’m upset!! I’m angry!!!”
When I got that job rejection I’ve written about previously, the phone call happened while I was on the clock. So I started crying outside on Kensington High Street, but was very aware I needed to get back to my desk. I went back up with very visible tear tracks streaked through my foundation. FYI, it is so hard to blend foundation in with dried tears. Again, no one said anything so I think I got away with it. I just powered through the next few hours, went home, and sobbed and sobbed.
I don’t know if this one counts but once at Metro a bunch of us were asked to eat the world’s hottest chili pepper on Facebook live stream. The second I bit into that pepper, my ears started ringing and my eyes were streaming. I had a phone camera in my face the whole time and I kept being asked “what’s it like? Is it really spicy?”.
When I was getting a lot of hate for something I’d written (if I remember correctly, it was the quiet quitting article, but it may have been another incident), one person wrote a tweet that was along the lines of ‘you will read a lot of feedback and think they’re just overreacting. I just need to tell you: you are terrible at your job and should be ashamed. Don’t kid yourself.’ That made me cry. Other online hate has made me cry but not in the office or during working hours. Take that, haters!
I hadn’t got enough sleep the night before and the office was so loud and the lights were bright and I suddenly felt like I was a small child who was overtired and about to have a meltdown, or perhaps even a tantrum. I thought to myself: surely I won’t actually cry at my desk, my body wouldn’t betray me like that. It would!!! My manager was very kind and took me away for a chat. Of course, the second she asked if I was OK that made me cry more. Such is the way of crying.
I went back to work after a really bad case of the flu and it was clearly too soon because I was then extremely sensitive to very normal feedback in a meeting and not only cried but also yelled. Extremely embarrassing! This was very recent. I still wince at the memory. You know what else is weird about crying at work; you worry that everyone will treat you differently afterwards, that they’ll think you’re completely unstable. I understand this fear, but let me reassure you: if you’re working for decent, reasonable people (I am, luckily), they will understand that sometimes crying just happens. They’ll check that you’re OK, do what they can to help, and then allow you to move forward without constantly making you feel like ‘that person who cried at work’.
A little after the above incident one of my bosses took the time to check in with me and was so kind that that made me cry again. Then I was apologising for crying, which made me cry more. Classic!
Here is my advice to anyone who has just cried at work or is perhaps even currently crying at work and reading this through tears.
First of all, retreat. The toilets will do in a pinch but far better is a walk outside in the fresh air, where you don’t have the stress of worrying someone will need the cubicle you’re in or have everyone thinking you’re doing a significant poo.
Then, take your time and just give in to the cry. The times when I’ve tried to rush back have gone badly – usually when you need to cry, you just need to cry and there’s no interrupting the flow. Just accept that you’ll be away from your desk for a while and that you’ll come back only once you’re sure the tears have stopped. Give it 5 mins after what you think is your final tear just to check.
Be ready for the ‘being perceived’ followup cry. You might even want to leave it longer than 5 minutes, actually, if you have a sense that if anyone asks you if you’re OK, addresses you, or even looks at you, it will trigger the tears again.
When you go back to your desk, have a line to say. If you just need to get out of there, something like ‘I’m having a tough time, I’m not ready to talk about it just yet, but I’ll check in tomorrow/later’ should do the trick. I don’t think denial or silence is a good route, personally. Often people will notice you’re crying and if you don’t say anything they might worry something very serious has happened. There’s also an increased risk of getting well-meaning questions and then having the aforementioned followup cry when you don’t get in there first. I’m a fan of Slack messaging your manager from your crying location to say: ‘I’m having a cry, it’s no big deal and we can discuss it tomorrow, but right now I’m embarrassed and just need everyone to pretend everything’s normal’.
And here’s what I’d like to say to everyone who hasn’t cried at work: please know that crying colleagues are not in any way less capable. Crying happens for all sorts of reasons (and often for no reason at all!) and anyone who cries at work will need kindness, understanding, and most of all the reassurance that they’re not being judged. If someone in your workplace cries, check in to see what they need. Some will want a hug. Others want you to pretend they don’t exist for a bit. Others will want to be given a boring admin task to take their mind off it. The only way to know for sure is to ask. And don’t be offended if the immediate answer is PLEASE GO AWAY.
Working On Purpose the book is out on the 21st of August
You can pre-order it now! Or, perhaps you might prefer an audiobook version? If so, good news: I was recording exactly this earlier in the week. Here’s a vlog of the process: