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Hello!

We are stoked to have you here. Narratales is literally a baby (exactly why you don’t see much happening around here!) so glad you’ve come by to say Hi.

While you can read about us here, we are taking the opportunity to narrate our story (it goes back eons). This is going to be a long read, so recommend you grab a snack and get comfortable – it’s story time.

“I got this… I’m not nervous… it’s just another first day… breathe in, breathe out…”

Her thoughts got louder as she walked into a plush maze of cubicles to be greeted by an innocuous onboarder. She had done this before, not once, not twice but seven times. This was her eighth job in five years, that gained her varied experiences and truckloads of anxiety, self-sabotaging thoughts and the occasional visitor – panic attacks. Since change was the only constant in matters of the career, and the only reason boiling down to dissatisfaction, accepting and adapting were like the default installed apps in this logorrhea-hit mind.

“Good morning, I join today. You are..?”

The one that lived in the open was this confident persona, ready to take on the world. The lack of self-esteem on the inside masked with the unafraid-to-rock-the-boat on the outside, was the reality she had lived for years – that’s what she understood life to be. Fortunately, not a single occasion of leaked emotions fronting her professional peers. The deep dark secret, known only to her, not considered as a problem that she should’ve dealt with.

“What if I’m not able to prove my worth here? No no, I have the expertise, I am a marketing professional with a track record of… wait isn’t that my LinkedIN bio? Just calm down, breathe in, breathe out…”

Unlike most startups, this one was organized and did not have frustrated, overworked faces. Colleagues were rather friendly, especially her immediate coworkers. The all-women team was led by, well, a woman. The interesting CMO believed that in a room of ten women, eight are sure to be smart; while in a room of ten men, well two (or less!), something she lived by. In her career building top-notch brands, she’d always worked with a team of women, by choice. As astoundingly motivating that sounds, the perfectionist in her had the team on their toes, delivering nothing but the best.

“Everyone here is so perfect, they know exactly what they are here for. Will I always be a jack of all trades, I say it like its a bad thing, maybe that’s my strength. But is it my purpose? Does a higher designation take me to the ‘self actualization’ stage of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Shut up! breathe in, breathe out”

One of her cool colleagues nudged her before ordering in some food, putting her back in high spirits. Having to spend hours with genuinely amiable teammates, a well-lit workstation and comforting breakout zones were like a dream-come-true, especially after unpleasant episodes of dailyness at the previous workplaces. It was short-lived though. You probably thought there wouldn’t be spoilers in the story. This one right here is a spoiler. This job, like all others was going to be just another organization that she would quit eventually.

“Did she just compliment my work? She’s probably the marketing goddess I want to be one day… did she just nod in agreement again? Act normal… don’t sit there with a straight face just smile and say thank you… she means it, I have a flair for writing!”

The article she submitted for feedback fetched her compliments from her boss lady, who took the time to channel her realization into working towards upping the game. Popular websites that posted well-written articles, reports and news, she was soon flooded with links and newsletters that were meant to enhance her skill. The digital marketer and the graphic designer in her team joined the bandwagon to applauding her new-found talent. If your boss guides you to finding yourself, consider yourself lucky. If you find yourself lost even after you’re shown the way, good luck!

“Why do I always feel happy when I resign and anxious when I join? Are endings more my thing? Oh, if I had a dollar for every ounce of self-doubt…”

Yet another dissatisfaction, yet another resignation. A celebratory farewell with cocktails and cake – a first. She’d not heard her true calling and went on to join another startup, higher designation, envious perks, you name it. And after that, another. It took two more short sprees of dissatisfaction before she decided to take the plunge. What lingered on with her fondly were her boss’ words. “This could be your niche, everyone has an a channeled area of expertise, writing could be yours. Content curation is going to be big, take it from me.”

“What have I got myself into? Not again!”

A promising step up in a booming industry, or so she thought, got her back to feeling dissatisfied. Only this time, the dissatisfaction was backed with sleepless nights, eighteen-hour workdays and a bed-and-breakfast relationship with home. The slavery ended at the onset of the nation-wide lockdown. She was one of the millions who lost their jobs in India because of the Coronavirus pandemic. Like always, the end brought in happiness, got her out of the donkey poop they all swim in (wearing suits).

“Why can’t I work on my terms and do only what I like? It’s called ‘scope of work’ dummy, just make a contract and launch the rocket… you can actually enjoy what you do (and make money). Did I just do a self pep talk? That’s a first!

Taking the plunge, out of the rabbit hole to the unknown territory of entrepreneurship. Self learning and enjoying every little thing that came with it. She writes, narrates, ideates – something she loved doing as a child. A realization became a reality when there was finally acceptance of what’s really true.

Narratales is the neglected itch to break-free from what she thought she wanted, to a happy path she is meant for.

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