How Much I Earn

Money, status and other aftereffects of loneliness

These days, I’ve been feeling a bit small in front of people who earn more than me or have more meaningful jobs. A voice in my head tells me I could’ve been so much more than I chose to be. So many people around me are doing so much more.

As an adult, status is mostly conferred to you based on your work. It could be how much impact you’re having on the world or how much money you’re taking home. The work I do is interesting. My colleagues are both smart and kind. The daily experience at my job is something I’m grateful for, but it’s not as flashy as writing for The Caravan or founding a startup. There’s less status in it.

I have to admit that I struggle with feeling like I’m behind on the status games. I could’ve optimized for more status and I chose not to, and on some days I struggle to remember why. This week, I just want to untie these knots with you.

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

The first time status ever came up for me was when I was considering a job at a small publisher no one had heard of. I told my therapist that I wouldn’t want to go to parties and say I work at a small online publication no-one had heard of.

She asked me:

Is it worth optimizing your life choices to what you’d like to say about yourself at parties? Or do you think that we should focus instead on our own day-to-day experience?

The answer was fairly obvious. I took the job at the publication, and I learned a lot about the publishing ecosystem working there. I did feel a bit uneasy explaining to people where I worked, but I would’ve regretted not taking that job for the sake of my status at parties. That experience made it a thumb rule for me that I wouldn’t let status get in the way of enriching experiences.

The Desire for Status

Of late, the conviction that I don’t want to play status games has weakened. When I mentioned it to a friend, he said it might have something to do with being in Bangalore. I dismissed it at first, but have come around to that view. What has changed is that I’m not surrounded by people who see and understand my journey. When most people around you know you by your LinkedIn bio, you want to make it good.

This says something about the modern industrial complex, doesn’t it? It requires that we as workers stay untethered, going where the jobs take us. But of course, we seek the company of others wherever we go. How, though, are we to become desirable to strangers? By getting those coveted jobs, leaning further into the complex to signal wealth, intelligence, artfulness, or all of the above.

Somehow, when I had the safety of friends who loved and saw me, I did not crave being seen and wanted by anyone else. I wanted to close myself off from the world. It’s sort of like how people gain weight in the security of relationships. Could it be that we only care about what we’re channeling externally when we’re unfulfilled in our relationships?

Status and Loneliness

I used to care only about what my closest friends thought of me. If they thought I was doing okay, I would be okay. I don’t have them around me as much to offer that reassurance anymore, so I care what strangers think of me. I care where I work, how much I earn, what I do, or how many people I manage. When no one is telling you you’re doing okay, you start looking for external signals that you are.

Maybe, then, the race for status stems from loneliness. On the flip side, to live a life unconcerned with status might entail nurturing relationships where status is not a factor. Somehow my salary and my job title just matter less when I’m surrounded by people who don’t care about them.

I just want to feel like I am good and smart and fun to hang out with. One way to get there is to have a fancy title at a well-known company. Another is to be in the company of people who truly know me. Where does that leave me? I’m yet to find out.