A Post-Office Identity Crisis, and Why I’ve Finally Stopped Caring
There was a time (not that long ago) when I really thought we’d eventually circle back to some kind of normal. Maybe not “normal” in the pre-pandemic sense, but some version of it. An office. A rhythm. A place to sit and do the damn work.
But a few months back, during a conversation with my spouse (Anh — life partner, baby mamma, and also our Operations Manager at FMK Agency), something clicked. Or snapped. Or maybe both.
We were mid-discussion about hiring and resourcing. Pretty routine stuff. But she made an offhand comment that landed harder than either of us expected:
“You know… most of our team has never worked in a traditional office. Like, ever.”
And she wasn’t wrong. But I didn’t want her to be right.
Because deep down, I think I still held onto this half-baked belief that we’d eventually return to something. Some real-world proving ground. Some physical space where culture could breathe, where work could be “real,” where showing up meant something.
But for this team? There’s nothing to return to. There’s no office nostalgia. No badge-swipe memories or passive-aggressive fridge notes. No post-it passive wisdom from that one coworker who thought they were a TED Talk in human form. Their entire professional identity was shaped through screens, Slack channels, Notion boards, and project briefs fired off between folding laundry or dodging pets and kids.
And here's the kicker: they're better than fine. They're focused, strategic, accountable, and weirdly good at forming real connections without ever shaking your hand.
Let Me Be Clear: I Resented This
At first, I resented the hell out of it. I come from the era where you were expected to show up. You earned your spot in the room. Even if the room sucked. Even if no one remembered your name. The point was that you were there.
So yeah, there was a quiet part of me that judged this new way of working. Thought it was soft. Thought it was fake. Felt like a diluted version of what “real” work used to be.
But that was just me projecting. I was romanticizing a system that never really served most people all that well — including me.
Now I’m Just… Confused (But Also, Weirdly Impressed)
Honestly, I still don’t totally get how our team makes it work. Some of them have never met in person. Some of them keep timezones like vampires. Some of them are literal machines when it comes to output — but wouldn’t know what to do if you stuck them in a boardroom.
And I’ve stopped trying to “fix” that.
I’ve stopped asking how to make them more like us. Or like me. Because this isn’t a temporary state. It’s not a phase. It’s the way things are now. And actually? It might be better.
Not because remote is some utopian future, or because Zoom is a satisfying replacement for human contact — it’s not — but because this crew has built a completely different muscle. A different kind of awareness. One that doesn’t rely on performance or proximity to prove value. They just… do the work. And they do it well.
Culture Isn’t Dead. It’s Just Harder to Fake Now.
Here’s the thing no one really wants to admit: most office culture was always kind of a lie.
All those birthday bagels and company “values” printed on acrylic plaques? That wasn’t culture. That was a pacifier. A distraction from the fact that most people felt disconnected, replaceable, or just… there.
Now? There’s no safety net. No donuts. No open floor plan to absorb awkward energy. If you want culture, you have to create it — intentionally, awkwardly, repeatedly. It’s harder now. But maybe that’s the point.
So, What Now?
I don’t know. I don’t have a hot take or a five-step framework. All I know is that I’m trying to build something that doesn’t rely on walls or headcounts to feel real. Something that acknowledges the weirdness of this in-between era we’re all stuck in.
We’re not going back. And maybe that’s okay.
So no, we’re probably never going to open a fancy office with kombucha on tap or beanbag chairs no one actually uses. And no, I won’t be leading a webinar about how to “create a thriving remote-first culture.”
But I will keep showing up with the people I trust, in whatever format makes sense, and trying to make great shit with them. Together, apart, or somewhere in between.
Because apparently, that’s what work is now.
And surprisingly? I’m cool with it.