Self Care Isn't Helping HR Trauma
I sat alone in my apartment, perched on my couch after a 15 hour day in my bathrobe with antiseptic, bandaids and a glass of wine. I carefully treated my scraped knees after I had tenderly treated myself to the self-care routine I’d been taught in all the workshops: a nice meal, a bath, a candle, wine.
My eyes closed as the moments leading up the knee scrapes collided against my false sense of relaxation; an employee I had disciplined a week ago screaming threats in the parking garage, the Facilities Manager running into my office, me scrambling to the parking garage while calling 911.
Then silence that washes over your soul when gunshots ring in a parking garage, the numbness that instantly replaces terror when you slam your body to the ground knowing you’ve gone from a deescalation situation to an active shooter situation; scraped knees in a Calvin Klein skirt.
The strength you always find in the pit of your stomach when you have dedicated your life to humans and someone is threatening their lives; the strength that suffocates fear like a thick blanket of smoke during a house fire and you’re ready to burn this place to the ground if it means saving people.
I open my eyes and I’m back in my apartment with my self-care routine and my scraped knees. It’s the same routine I followed when I looked down the barrel of a gun when I terminated a deputy, the same routine when I was shoved in a stairwell by an employee hiding pornography in his desk, the same routine when an employee threatened my life and flipped a table at me.
The outcomes are always the same in these situations - I succeed. The success is a mixture of a well trained badass that trusts her team to handle crisis management situations, and a stroke of luck that hasn’t run out yet, as well as the predictability of humans when their backs are against the wall.
Yet, the problem isn’t the outcome of an employer’s worst nightmare - it’s the HR aftermath.
We’ve been workshopped to believe a bath, candle and a glass of wine will wash away the trauma of being a people supporting professional. Yet, as 2020 has torn HR professionals to shreds, our self-care routines are finally falling apart like the sham they are.
You don’t have to be in an active shooter situation to have HR trauma. Your trauma can come from being in the trenches with your employees - employees suffering loss, going through divorce, trying to figure out childcare, stuck in a tiny apartment trying to remain productive during a global pandemic, ones that lost loved ones but can’t bury them because of Corona virus, and so much more.
HR trauma looks like being the punching bag to our stakeholders. It looks like biting your tongue day in and day out when that one HR team member continues their war on you and your work. HR trauma looks like being afraid to take PTO because you can’t fathom coming back to your inbox.
HR trauma looks like slowly sliding from the long term mindset into the, “if I just make it to [insert end date, project, whatever]” mindset.
HR trauma is as real as any other trauma, yet not once have I seen a workshop or conference breakout session addressing what strangles HR warriors every day.
It was that night, perched on my couch in my bathrobe with bloody knees from an active shooter situation that I decided self-care routines for HR trauma were bullshit, and I needed something different if I was going to stay in this HR world.
While I have found many ways to help my own HR trauma, it’s important to know that what’s shared below are only a few, and may not work for you. What will work is starting to acknowledge that you do have HR trauma, and a candle isn’t going to fix it.
Therapy: That’s right, good old fashion therapy. If you’re handing out EAP info and don’t see a therapist on a regular basis, you’re a hypocrite and shouldn’t be allowed the budget for the program. During some of the hardest times in my professional career my therapist has been the one to look me dead in the eyes and say, “This is a hard and holy work, and you are capable of doing it.” Whether it’s a pep talk or the professional tools we need to process trauma, therapy is the key to unloading the people sized weight we carry on our shoulders. PS: your family and friends are not your therapist. It’s not fair, stop making them listen.
Exercise: Don’t you roll your eyes at me, and don’t you stop reading this paragraph. I’m not going to rattle off all the statistics you cite in your wellness program because that would be petty and we’re among friends on this blog. I am going to tell you that you cannot sit (or even stand) at a desk all day and expect your body to process trauma positively. We have to give our brains a head start on trauma-processing by tricking it with happy chemicals which are produced by exercise. It just has to be done, no matter what form, for 30 minutes a day. Get your ass up and get to processing your trauma.
Community: I’m not talking about SHRM, because…they suck. If you want to truly process the trauma you go through every day, you need a community of people that love the shit out of you even when you hate yourself. That community should look, believe, and move different than you. Some of them should be in HR, and some shouldn’t. They should ask when you saw your therapist last, send you wine or food when your day went to shit, and give you a healthy space to be who you are and try out who you are becoming. A sign of a healthy, trauma processing community is one that forgives quickly when you pop off on them, fights for you even when they’re busy, listens with the intent to hear, and says I love you a lot.
Get a Hobby: Your hobby is not your family, it’s not writing an HR blog, and it’s not scrolling on your phone or watching TV. Our identities have become so wrapped up in our professions that our trauma has permeated every aspect of our lives. We have no other passions, no other loves, no other thought processes. Our main passion is people, that’s why we picked this industry, but if we have nothing outside of these people, then we have nothing outside of this trauma. We must have separation in order to return whole. Find a book club, get a pet, re-purpose furniture, coach a sport, do something outside of this profession so you can be your best self and make radical change.
If you’re in HR, you’ve been through trauma. Self-care routines aren’t baths and candles, they’re life long commitments to ourselves, our souls, and our work. I’m walking this road with you, one therapy appointment, workout, friendship, and training session with my dog at a time.
I love you.