Memoir Blast #6 — The Buying‑Department Job I Never Took

Memoir Blast #6 — The Buying‑Department Job I Never Took

Back in the UK, I was covering a shift in the clothes shop where I worked. My boss turned up after a heavy Friday night, the world on her shoulders, and I told her to go home — I’d handle it  . What I didn’t realise until years later is that I wasn’t just covering her shift. I was stepping straight into her role, the way I always have.

I arrived in one of my best outfits: RaRa skirt, lace gloves, rows of pearls — full Alison flourish, Madonna‑coded confidence. The kind of outfit that tells the truth about you long before any CV ever could.

That day I wasn’t “helping out.” I was running the shop. Reading the room. Becoming exactly what was needed. No qualifications, just instinct, excellence, and that ND ability to slip into the shape of the missing adult in the room. I’ve been doing it my whole life.

The buying department happened to be visiting that day.

One of them looked at me, really looked, and said she thought I was wasted on the shop floor.

She asked if I’d ever considered working in buying.
She said I had the eye for it.
She invited me to get in touch.

And what did I do?

I panicked.
I pretended to be a manager — which I wasn’t.
I made excuses about the children, childcare, logistics, qualifications.
I told myself I couldn’t possibly do it.

The truth was simpler and sharper:
I didn’t believe I was capable.
My neurodiversity let me perform confidence, but it didn’t let me feel it.

So I didn’t call her back.
Another opportunity slipped through my fingers — even though, deep down, I know I would have shined.

 ¹ (This pattern appears throughout my life: stepping into roles effortlessly, but shrinking from the doors they opened. A skillset mistaken for confidence, and confidence mistaken for something I wasn’t allowed to have.)