About me — Jayashree (Ja-ya-sh-ree)
Hey there! Here are some bits and pieces about me. They aren’t in any particular order, or rhythm. I wrote them down as they came to me. Maybe I’ll keep adding to this. Or not. If you read all of the bits, I thank you. That’s very nice of you.
I am Jayashree (Ja-ya-sh-ree).
I am a writer, coach, freelance photographer, language learner and former tech manager.
For 15 years I worked a full time technology job. My education was in engineering (like so many of my peers). I was very good at what I did and the tech jobs paid well. For a while there I thought I’d be okay. I’d keep on working and thriving and growing. But after a few years of wading around in mid-level management positions, I realised that I had hit the glass ceiling that no one back then talked about. (To this day I wish I was ten years younger, I missed out on so many growth points in tech that has thankfully created so many women tech leaders).
Well anyway, once I reached that point of no growth, it was all hard work, heartache and zero returns. It was the most exhausting, least fulfilling time in my life. Some days I felt like I was dragging around a large boulder hanging from my neck. Still, it wasn’t easy to willy nilly quit my job. A decade ago, people didn’t quite jobs to pursue their passions. You’d be called irresponsible or stupid or both. It was scary to imagine life outside the beaten path. It took extraordinary courage to do things like that. Or extraordinary support from the people in your life. I had neither. My family had had more than its fair share of turbulence and turmoil. And I didn’t know what it meant to have a life without a full time job to support me. I didn’t have any templates for that kind of living. So I hung on — to my job and to my misery. I’d have probably gone on forever, harnessed to some unhappy tech job, until time ran out. Or someone threw me out. It so happened that one day, someone did.
One day, my manager told me over a video call that my services would no longer be required. I walked out in a daze, accompanied by a visibly scared HR lady (I sometimes still wonder why! Did she think I’d throw a tantrum?). Anyway, I soon decided not to apply for full time tech jobs again. Not that I had pots of money, but I did have some savings. And a stubborn streak. So I decided to roll the dice — see what life would look like if I wasn’t in a soul sucking job.
Ever since, I’ve done a variety of freelance jobs. I’ve been a writer (both technical and creative), a photographer, a web-designer, a developer and a coach/mentor to new and transitioning tech leaders. I’ve learned a lot, unlearned even more. I’ve developed a variety of skills and have enjoyed complete freedom and autonomy over my time and work. My journey has not been what you’d call a conventional success but it’s been very personally interesting and deepening. I have done loads of unpaid jobs along with paid gigs. My journey will probably not capture anyone’s interest in parties, but it’s mine.
I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about going back to a full time tech job. Especially now when the world of technology has far more interesting job profiles and career paths than was available to me. But then I remember how hard it is for people, especially women in tech to even find a job after a gap — especially a job that matches their talent and capability and doesn’t make them feel small and novice-like at life. Those are also the times I wonder about my decision to stay freelance. But then I make myself a cuppa and get busy writing. Or go out for a walk. And the world rights itself again.
For a long time I’ve struggled with my writing. How to fearlessly unleash my inner voice, while still being my essential private self? How to choose topics that may be solid and useful to others but may need me to reveal parts of myself to drive home the message? How to be so publicly “me”?
I still don’t have the answers but I’ve recently begun to find some flickering of insights on how I can go about showing up without necessarily spewing my guts all over internet. I’ve got many smart medium writers to thank for that insight. I confess I still have way too many drafts waiting to be published.
When I’m not doing writing or other survival/domestic/family stuff, I stream a lot of TV shows — old, new, ancient. I just can’t help it — I am a sucker for intelligent storytelling wherever I can find it. I mainly enjoy cerebral suspense and detective shows. And comedies. Both shine bright with solid writing.
The other happy place is on my bike. I pedal around the streets of Berlin, taking in the fresh air, the free vibes and possibilities for my life. I am one of those people that thinks that life is to be considered in its entirety. Not just within the limits of what the world calls “youth”. That would be a terrible waste of all those years before and after. Especially after. We live on for so many many years after youth.
I grew up in the south of India. I’ve lived in different parts of the world for work and have visited several more places for their sheer beauty. Nature is where I find my solace, my poetry. I think travel is one of the best things I have done with money. I can live with just one winter jacket, two pairs of jeans and two tees for several years. And I have. Several times over. But I can’t live without traveling occasionally to find some stark, beautiful nature where I could totally lose myself. It’s why I travel. Not for the food, not for the cities. Those are nice. But I am here for nature.
Sometimes I wonder how we as humans manage to make life hell for each other. I mean, we seem to go out of the way to do the more difficult thing of being unloving, standoffish, divisive. When the opposite is so much less effort. To be ordinarily empathetic feels so much easier. Sometimes this understanding informs my writing.
It’s hard for me to be too opinionated — not because I enjoy sitting on that nice fence, but because I can often truly see both sides of any argument. After that it’s hard for me to unsee. It’s hard for me to tell anyone what to do or convince them about this or that as the best and the only way. This makes my writing life harder. This makes it harder for me to take a strong tone of authority. I end up watering down my words a bit, to keep it open and inviting rather than imposing or intimidating. Apparently this is a recipe to fail as a writer.
“You need to be opinionated “— they tell me. “You have to be able to invoke strong emotions through your words. You must incite and instigate. If you can’t convince, then annoy them — anger them, so something, anything. But don’t leave them with an idea that they may or may not want to get behind. Who’ll ever read a writer that sounds so tentative? And who’ll follow your writing? No one!” — they tell me. I am not always sure I understand what all that means.I am not even sure if I want to. So until I know for sure, through my own experience and instinct, I’ll keep being myself.
And if that language comes across as too PC, or too bland, so be it — I tell myself. That’s the work for now. Gotta keep doing it.
