The metaphorical(!) work one-night stand

when networking events can feel like one

Hi, three housekeeping items to start:

1. Substack has a feature called Substack Chat and I’ll start using it for SOAR (link here). As someone who lives for the little things, this will be a place to store SOAR’s little things (e.g., the process, adjacent thoughts, and reads that I’m already sharing with some of you).

2. Before jumping into the topic du jour, I want to make one thing abundantly clear — I don’t write SOAR for clicks. I don’t rage-bait. And if I play cute here, it’s PG-rated / kawaii-cute. Any SOAR-related subject lines that seem like teasers aren’t meant to be, and my reference to a one-night stand isn’t to create a stir.

   There’s the word game that we’ve talked about - one you can play and a system you can game. I think it’s important to understand both so you can avoid engaging when possible, which is why SOAR is the last place you’ll see me doing so.

   When it comes to these metaphors, this is just how my brain works; it makes connections that are as boring as tomatoes/potatoes or as seemingly NSFW as one-night stands. In instances when I suspect that a metaphor will generate a certain kind of attention, I then sit on it for even longer and stress-test in the wild, turning up the dial to uncomfortable extremes for the purpose of finding as many flaws in my argument (and myself!) as possible. I tested today’s topic for over a year (a year and four months, to be precise), and this is still the metaphor that seems to work best.

3. I have nothing against one-night stands or anyone who partakes in them. They're just not my thing, the same way vodka isn't.

A little background

When people ask how long I’ve lived in NY, part of my response always includes, “this is New York 3.0 for me.” I’ve technically been back for 2+ years, but have been a New Yorker for nearly two decades. NY3.0 is different than 1.0 and 2.0, but they’re all very similar if I compare it to where I moved from — Portland, Oregon, where I lived my quietest and simplest life to date. So when I moved back to the city and there were random events I could go to, I generally did, including networking ones. After about a year, I found myself feeling like I had gone to enough events to credibly hold a POV, which is that a lot of networking events kind of feel like metaphorical work one-night stands.

About last night…

When it comes to networking events, I’m going to generalize and say that there are three types of people (that are not mutually exclusive):

• the Introverts, who hate it the whole time

• the Schmoozers, whose reason for being there couldn’t be more obvious; they’re there for social currency. (Note: schmoozers often come off as extroverts, but can be socially well-adjusted introverts.)

• and then there’s me, an ambivert, but for the sake of today’s topic, let’s just say I’m an extrovert who socializes like an introvert. I attend these events because I never know what life will bring, but rallying the energy for me to show up is like moving heaven and Earth. Once I’m there, though, there’s a little jumping bean inside of me (made of extroversion and sincere curiosity) that makes talking to people enjoyable, so much so that there are times when I’m the last to leave. Given my sluggish starts, the joke’s on me!

Anyway, the moment I’m home, the words “that wasn’t so bad…” always comes to mind, and I go to bed not thinking much more about it. So imagine my surprise when I wake up with the ick, like some less than desirable morning after.

Understanding ‘the ick’

We all know how networking events work: I might meet a new person, learn about a company/industry, and get invited to another event, all because I was in the room and able to converse with people who hardly know me. Sometimes, the knowledge I learn or invites received are things that no amount of good work I do could get me…and that’s the ick.

The ick is that I really love doing good work. I really value seeing good work. And I recognize that networking has very little to do with actual work. This world doesn’t reward anyone for good work alone. Said differently, there are times when I’m at a networking event with people whose work (and/or work ethics) are not what I call good, but it doesn’t seem to matter much if they’re good at networking, ya know?

This post today isn’t to criticize networking. There’s nothing wrong (and many things right!) with trying to advance your career by way of relationships. I think I just tire of the superficiality I see and the disproportionate rewards that are given to people who are good at it and propel ick-like behaviors, because there are ecosystem effects.

In all fairness, friends will call me out and say that I’m good at networking. The truth is that they’re not wrong; I can certainly hold my own, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel any better. I feel like what separates me from the people I’m referring to is that I don’t play people the way people play cards — I don’t see them first for what they can give me (a winning hand) and second for who they are (the high card).

Lasting relationships will always involve transaction, which means you’re bound to show your cards at some point, but whether you lead with the hand or the player holding it informs the kind of person you are.

What’s changed

Something I had to ask myself is why I’m feeling this way today vs in years prior. Networking has always been a part of my work-life since before the work itself, beginning at university, during business school, and throughout my career - so why now?

Two factors I’m spotlighting - busier friends and broader boundaries:

• Busier friends: The general consensus within my circle seems to be that we’re going to more and more of these events alone (due to parenting and whatnot), and by doing so, the focus/expectation shifts - from something that’s personally fun(ny) to something that feels professionally performative. What once was an event that a friend and I simply went to (and laughed off/left, if bad!) is now an event that we grin and bear more than before. It’s a game of BATNAs. To me, there is no better alternative than spending time with friends; we’d have a good time anywhere, including networking events. There is, however, a better alternative than going to networking events, which is what makes them a necessary evil.

• Broader boundaries: During the pandemic, society elevated the importance of creating boundaries — physical ones (i.e., social distancing) and emotional ones — for our health and safety. Creating and respecting boundaries were encouraged, positioned as acts of responsibility and care, but I worry that we’ve gone too far and the residual effects are that we’re less approachable, less outgoing, and less amenable. There is so much good that comes out of turning inwards for personal growth, so I’m wary to ask if we’ve stayed in this space for too long out of personal protection and comfort.

  It can be a rough-and-tumble world out there, and I think it’s driving many of us to put on emotional armour before stepping out; we want to protect ourselves, and one way of doing that is projecting toughness. But humans seek balance, which means tenderness is inevitably needed after braving the wild, and home can feel like a place to safely express it, seek it, and restore it.

  The thing is, I don’t think it’s sustainably healthy to compartmentalize this way. It’s a survival tactic that works for only so long before being desensitized or languishing. I think a better way towards well-being is inviting toughness and tenderness both inwards and out, and for me, my friends help unlock that.

Shut up, we’re going

It used to be that people felt a sense of courtesy/obligation to explain why they were saying no to something. I feel like those days are long gone when it comes to acquaintances and casual friends, but I’m kind of bringing it back with respect to those I deem my chosen family.

“Shut up, we're going” is now my response when friends tell me they want to stay home out of comfort, because we both know better; a little tough-love among friends can lead to more tender support in the world, and vice versa.

Btw, this applies to me, too…someone invited me to go to a work event in Baltimore (because he knows I have family in Maryland) and I didn’t really want to go. I was so tired at the time, but refusing would've made me a hypocrite, so we made a 24-hour trip out of it. His work event was ultimately the perfect excuse to log a core memory out of a silly little shared experience, and I even squeezed in a breakfast with my nephews — a win-win.

Redefining a good night

With all this in mind, the problem I needed to solve wasn't networking in itself, but the ick I felt on mornings after.

In 2013, Marissa Mayer was CEO of Yahoo and making headlines for her hot takes regarding working-from-home and motherhood. One thing that wasn’t making headlines was her introverted approach to socializing, which she shared with Vogue:

[Mayer] suffers from shyness, she says, and has had to discipline herself to deal with it. For the first fifteen minutes she wants to leave any party, including one in her own home. “I will literally look at my watch and say, ‘You can’t leave until time x,’ ” she says. “ ‘And if you’re still having a terrible time at time x, you can leave.’ ” She has learned that if she makes herself stay for a fixed period, she often gets over her social awkwardness and ends up having fun.

I think of this blurb every time I need to rally, but have also tweaked my approach accordingly:

1. bring friends, when able! (as discussed)

2. tell myself that all I have to do is show up and stay for 20 mins (There’s a separate post about belonging that I want to write about, but in short, there’s no reason to stay where you’re not welcome.)

3. focus on net-positive: define a good night as meeting ONE good person / making ONE genuine connection. Prioritize high cards over winning hands.

Misery loves company

I really can’t express how validating it was to read that little blurb in Vogue (of all places!) so many years ago. And when I first started sharing this one-night stand metaphor with friends, it was a way to reconcile what I was seeing and feeling at these events with how everyone else seemed to express them. Whether I like it or not, I've met some of my dearest friends through networking, which makes it either the punchline or the whole point (it depends on the morning).

To those who love it, I'm genuinely happy for you. To others like me who share a love-hate for it, you’re in good company, x.