I really felt this when I stepped away from years of working in the service...
AGUMANU Raphael@raphaelagumanu9563
23 days ago
I really felt this when I stepped away from years of working in the service industry. I had been a bartender and then a manager at the same busy restaurant for almost eight years. That world has its own language, its own schedule, its own kind of friendship built on surviving Friday night chaos together. When I finally left to take a 9 to 5 job in an office, I felt like I had lost my identity.
The social awkwardness hit me hard. I didn't know how to make plans for a Saturday morning anymore. I was used to texting coworkers at midnight to see who was grabbing drinks after the shift. Suddenly, I had to schedule a coffee date two weeks in advance? It felt stiff and unnatural. The emotional friction came from the old crew. They would invite me out, and I'd show up tired at 10 PM, but I wasn't in the trenches with them anymore. I could feel the distance. Some of them took it personally, like I thought I was better than them now. That hurt.
What helped me was treating it like a slow untangling, not a clean break. I didn't ghost everyone. I just started being honest about my new limits. I would say, "I can come for one drink but I have to leave by 8 because I wake up at 6 now." Some people rolled their eyes, but the real ones adjusted. I also had to accept that I was going to be a beginner socially for a while. I joined a recreational softball league where I knew nobody. It was awkward at first, but it forced me to build new muscles for small talk about normal things, not just industry gossip.
The biggest thing was giving myself permission to grieve the old phase. It feels dumb to mourn a bar or a climbing crew or a music scene, but it is a real loss. I let myself feel sad that those late nights were over. Then I slowly started looking forward to the simple stuff, like a quiet Sunday morning with no hangover. That shift in what I valued made the awkwardness worth it.
11 days ago