Climb the Ladder or Fly Free?

Ok, it's probably worth starting with the facts: I work in corporate. They pay me every month. That pay keeps a roof over my head, funds my obsession with obsession with trainers and lets me indulge in small luxuries. For all its flaws, corporate life serves its purpose. It's a transaction. They give me money; I do the work. Simple. Or at least, it should be.

Weirdly, I've been thinking about Wicked, specifically the song Defying Gravity (which, yes, has been on repeat since I saw the movie).

And it hit me why: it's the anthem of my internal career crisis.

Here's the setup for those unfamiliar: Elphaba has just discovered that the Wizard the figure she idolised is a fraud. Betrayed and disillusioned, she’s standing at a crossroads, questioning everything she once believed in.

Glinda, trying to convince her to stay, pleads:

"You can still be with the Wizard, what you've worked and waited for. You can have all you ever wanted."

It’s a tempting offer: stay within the system, play by the rules, and reap the rewards. But every time I hear this part, it feels like a punch to the gut.

Because it’s not just Glinda’s plea—it’s the soundtrack of corporate life. This is how you play the game. These are the rules. This is what you need to do if you want to succeed.

The catch?

They don’t tell you the rules are completely arbitrary.

They shift with every company, every team, every manager who decides you need to behave a certain way, sound a certain way, or project a certain image to fit in.

You can follow them, climb the ladder, even make it to the top.

But what’s waiting for you there?

And then Elphaba’s response hits, the line that always gets me:

"You’d rather grovel in submission to feed your own ambition."

That line is a wake-up call for me. She knows the cost of playing along, the loss of her integrity, her freedom, and she refuses to pay it.

She chooses her values over safety, knowing it might mean standing alone.

Here's the thing: I know how to play the game.

I know how to send the perfectly worded follow-up email, charm the right people, and nod in all the right places during meetings.

And I know what happens when you play along. You rise. You get the promotions, the bonuses, the title changes.

But for what?

Here's where the tension is for me. Increasingly in certain circles corporate life isn't just a transaction. It's also a symbol. A marker of how far you’ve (I've) come.

And yet, with every step up the ladder, why do I feel a little less like myself?

Every moment I smile through something I disagree with or contort myself to fit someone else's idea of "professionalism" feels like a betrayal.

I think that's why Defying Gravity resonates so deeply.

Elphaba doesn't just reject the Wizard's rules, she rejects the entire premise that her worth is tied to the system at all.

She chooses herself.

And in doing so, she finds freedom.