Climb the Ladder, Break a Few Hearts

An emotionally unstable memoir from the front lines of corporate social gymnastics

Through my professional career, I’ve seen it all.

People pretending to be humble while sneakily cc’ing the CEO.

Team huddles that felt more like low-budget soap operas.

And relationships—actual romantic relationships—sacrificed in the name of career advancement.

We weren’t just climbing the corporate ladder.

We were climbing it with stilettos, fake smiles, and PowerPoint decks designed to impress Todd from Strategy who never even opened them.

Let me take you back.

Scene: A midsize marketing firm. Open floor plan. Absolutely no privacy.

There’s a woman—I’ll call her Rachel—who made eye contact with anyone above Director level like she was auditioning for The Bachelor: C-Suite Edition. She once wore heels so loud you could hear her “networking” from four departments away.

One time, she brought brownies to a budget meeting. No one asked for them. But suddenly she was “looped in” to every high-level conversation. Coincidence? I think not.

Meanwhile, her boyfriend—Mark—also worked at the company.

Things were going well. Until Rachel got promoted to “Senior Project Whisperer” or whatever vague title they invented to justify giving her Todd’s old parking spot. She started ending meetings with, “Well, let’s circle back offline,” which is corporate for “I’m now too good for eye contact.”

Two weeks later, Mark transferred to another department.

Two months later, Rachel “liked” a VP’s anniversary post and never looked back.

Then there was Brian—a mid-level analyst with the emotional range of a spreadsheet.

Brian started dating someone in HR, which should have been flagged by Homeland Security, but apparently love is blind (and so is compliance). Suddenly, Brian was invited to off-sites, strategy sessions, and one suspicious “confidential culture audit.”

Brian went from “that guy who brings tuna to lunch meetings” to “rising star with potential.”

By Q3, HR Barbie was gone.

By Q4, Brian was promoted.

He cried during his acceptance speech.

I cried into my keyboard.

Here’s the thing: I’m not judging.

Okay, maybe I am. But lovingly.

Because when you’ve sat through enough “collaboration workshops” hosted by people who once threw staplers over printer etiquette, you realize:

It was never just about the work.

It was about perception.

Strategic alliances.

Accidentally bumping into the SVP of Finance at the Keurig machine like it wasn’t your fifth “accidental” bump that week.

And it’s exhausting.

Not just because of the theatrics, but because somewhere along the way, you start wondering:

“Am I falling behind because I’m not flirty enough with the Director of Budget Forecasting?”

“Should I have brought lasagna to that metrics review?”

“Is my LinkedIn profile missing… vibes?”

But here’s what I’ve learned:

The real ones rise differently.

Not by seduction or manipulation, but by showing up, doing the work, and maintaining dignity while others host weekly PowerPoints titled “Me: A Journey.”

You might not always be the favorite.

You might not get the office with windows.

But you’ll keep your integrity—and your relationships.

Because at the end of the day, I’d rather get promoted slower with my sanity intact…

than wake up one day in a corner office wondering why my dog also left me for someone in Sales.

Stay awkward. Stay honest.

The right people will see it. Eventually.

Probably not Todd.

But someone.