Verified by 
I worry about the how-to article's pontification and aridity. So in some recent posts, I've genre-bended: I've attempted to embed a psychological issue within a short-short story, for example, Should You Give Up on Finding Mr/Ms Right? and Average Jane. Here is today's offering.
This first part is not fiction. It's a paraphrase of a conversation I heard today on my daily hike around the lake I'll make up the conversants' names:
Jen: I lost 30 pounds on cardio. Want to sign up with me for the program? It's only $1490 and they give you lots of support.
Kat: Sure. Sounds like fun.
Jen: I don't know about fun but I lost 30 pounds.
Kat: I'd like to lose weight too. Maybe we should ask Madison if she wants to do it with us?
Jen: Sure.
Kat: I can't wait to go to the concert.
Jen: Me too. The hotel we'll be staying at is so cute.
Kat: Yeah. I'll bring a gallon of Ketel One.
Jen: I'll bring $40 for drinks at the concert and $100 for gambling.
Kat: That sounds about right. Totally fun!
Jen: Hey, you want to take a day off to go to the Giants game?
Kat: Sure!
From here, it's a fictional account of Jen's life story.
As a child, Jen was always one of the "in" kids—She made sure she was: She wore the right clothes, talked about the right pop culture, used the right argot, for example, "She was all like, 'Are you mad at me?' and I was like, 'No way!'"
Much of Jen's time was spent in groups: at recess, sleepovers, shopping at the mall.
She chose her college mainly because most of her friends were going there.
She joined a sorority and welcomed the shared rituals and built-in group with whom she had a common bond.
After college, she applied for jobs for which the recruitment ad stressed collaboration, teamwork. She loved phrases like, "There's no I in 'team" and she was grateful when, occasionally, someone would pick up the slack for her. And it didn't bother her that team-decision-making meant that it took a long time to get things done and that those consensus-based solutions usually were tepid—that which everyone could agree on.
Unconsciously, Jen wanted to keep to The Schedule: date a lot until her late 20s, then find a husband, work until she had a baby and then stay home or maybe work part-time—like most of her friends.
And thus went most of Jen's collaborative life—including a bevy of friends helping her through her breast cancer treatments...and at her deathbed. Her room was filled with flowers, cards, and people were always visiting. Near the end, they all decided to throw her a final "party:"20 of her BFFs were in the room, holding her hand, hugging her, telling stories about all the fun they had. Jen told the most.
Then, one of the visitors innocently asked Jen, "You've been so much a part of us. Who are you, yourself?" Jen, normally talkative, fell silent, thinking and thinking. After 20 seconds, someone could no longer stand the silence and said, "Well, I remember when Jen, Taylor, Chrissie, and I...."
When they left, Jen thought, "I benefited a lot from always being part of The Group but did the benefits to me and to others outweigh the liabilities?"
The takeaway
Are you primarily a collaborator? Has any loss of individuality been worth it? Is there something you'd like to do to be more individualistic? Group-oriented?
Dr. Nemko’s nine books, including his just-published Modern Fables: short-short stories with life lessons, are available. You can reach career and personal coach Marty Nemko at mnemko@comcast.net
