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By the way…: Feeling the sting of post-power syndrome
When you read books on feminism, you get a sense it is only housewives who turn out to be overbearing parents, supposedly because their unoccupied lives deprive them of meaning and pride
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span>When you read books on feminism, you get a sense it is only housewives who turn out to be overbearing parents, supposedly because their unoccupied lives deprive them of meaning and pride.
Fair enough, but what about mothers (and, of course, fathers) who spend half of their lives working and when retirement approaches, cease to be as potent as they used to be? If they can’t come to terms with the changes that happen, they’re bound to suffer from post-power syndrome.
My close friend’s mother is the epitome of a very robust and active person. She has worked as the director of several institutions, won a number of awards, been interviewed by the media and invited as a panelist to numerous seminars.
But for this lady, her glory days seem to be closing in on her. She no longer serves as the director of powerful companies, invitations to become a panelist have decreased dramatically and so have interview requests from the media.
Gone are the days when she used to have people listen to her words, and possible, as a big boss, order her underlings around.
She has taken a number of freelance jobs probably to keep her mind engaged. But when you work as a consultant offering your services to your clients, you are no longer “the queen.”
I can imagine the pain she must have felt — she used to be the one ordering people around and now she’s taking orders from other people.
There was even one particular incident when she was reprimanded by her client for coming late to a session.
My friend has been under a great deal of stress because of her mother’s supposed meanness. After spending more than enough time around her mother, I now understand her frustration.
She has been very critical and judgmental of other people since she was young, according to my friend, and after she was dethroned from her seat of power, she became even more toxic.
I see how she talks about her juniors, who have now become powerhouses in the industry where she was once queen. She never talks about them without criticizing the ineffectiveness of their programs or going on about how their business strategies are so stupid.
When some of her juniors become successful, she gives backhanded compliments, attributing their success to their connections to the right people or for being bootlickers, rather than their individual merits.
If you think her rants are business as usual, you are wrong. My friend’s mother is an aspiring writer and these days, she enjoys slamming other people’s work and sometimes makes ad hominem judgments on successful writers as well.
“I wonder how so-and-so gets critical acclaim, no wonder, his novels are all about sex and violence […] Oh, that writer, his poems are just like soap operas […] So-and-so has become a productive writer because he doesn’t want people to forget him.” On and on she goes.
In her personal life, she is also mean. She criticizes me for not ironing my clothes neatly or for not being a hard enough worker, and then she gossips about her friends’ perceived stupidities behind their backs.
After spending just a few months with such a negative person, I felt like my head was about to explode.
My friend and I suspect that her mother suffers from post-power syndrome. Just one click away, I looked up the symptoms on Google. We drew our conclusion that her bitter and critical behavior reflects the syndrome, besides the fact she has a personal disposition to behave that way.
In an attempt to empathize with her behavior, while trying to numb myself from the accumulated pain that her behavior caused me, I tried to imagine being in her shoes. When she was young, I can imagine her being so excited for the adventurous life that awaited her. Now it looks like life is closing in on her.
I have no guts to draw any conclusions or give any suggestion regarding this case because I am only 27. I have no idea what it feels like to suffer from such pain.
My friend and I, however, at least are now aware we have to learn a lot in maximizing our experiences while still having potential, so that when the time comes for us to move over and give way for other people, we can do it gracefully without too much bitterness, and without desperately attempting to retain our seat of power, when it is in fact not there anymore.
