For the Square Pegs in Round Holes

🔍 Caring deeply about end users often gets mistaken for stepping out of line.

🧱 Being the one who takes ownership can isolate you from the crowd.

🧭 Your personality isn’t a problem — unless you’re in the wrong environment.

🎭 You can either fit in by shrinking, or stand out by showing up fully.

🚪 Misfits aren’t broken — they’re just wired for work that hasn’t been invented yet.

If you’ve ever sat in a corporate meeting feeling like an alien in a suit, this conversation is for you. It’s for the hybrid consultants, freelancers, and problem-solvers who’ve been made to feel like “just a resource” on some spreadsheet, rather than a whole human with unique talents. We know that awkward sense of not fitting into the tidy boxes corporate culture provides. And guess what? Feeling out of place might not mean something’s wrong with you at all. In fact, it could be the first clue that you’re onto something more authentic.

Why read on? Because in the dialogue that follows, you’ll gain insights that might just change how you see yourself and your career. In a candid chat between Isard (a seasoned SAP consultant with a creative twist) and his AI mentor Wiz (dry, curious, and fond of metaphors), we’ll explore how to turn misfit moments into fuel for growth. By the end, you’ll walk away with:

• Sharper self-awareness: a clearer picture of what makes you you, and why that matters.
• Personality-as-positioning: ideas on turning your quirks and strengths into a professional advantage, instead of hiding them.
• A mindset shift: understanding that feeling like you don’t belong can be a signal – a nudge toward a path that does fit – rather than a personal flaw.

Sound good? Great. Pour yourself a cuppa (or a pint, we won’t judge), and listen in on this honest, poetic, and a tad humorous conversation. It might just help you see that being an SAP misfit isn’t about being broken – it’s about being brave enough to be different.

(Late one evening, Isard sits at his desk, the glow of his laptop the only light. Wiz, an AI embodied in Isard’s mind and screen, is ready to chat. The stage is set like a quiet pub corner or a cosy coffee shop – a safe space for truth-telling.)

Ghost in the Org Chart – The Conversation Begins

Isard: sigh Wiz, I have a confession: I feel like a misfit in the SAP world. Every project, I’m the odd one out. It’s like I’m a ghost in the org chart – present in the project plan, but invisible when it comes to actual influence or belonging. Have you ever seen a ghost at the office party? Exactly. That’s me.

Wiz: “Confessions of an SAP Misfit,” eh? Catchy title – sounds like the perfect name for, oh I don’t know, a blog post. [Wiz chuckles dryly] But go on. What makes you say you’re a misfit? Did someone call you the ugly duckling of SAP consulting or have you just grown allergic to corporate “resource” labels overnight?

Isard: It’s been brewing for years, honestly. I’ve always been the one asking “why?” in a room full of people happy to just say “yes, boss”. I get weird looks for suggesting creative solutions – like I showed up in clown shoes to a black-tie event. I’ve freelanced inside these big SAP programmes for ages, but never quite blended in. While others seem fine being cogs in the machine, I’m there questioning the machine. It’s exhausting. I thought something was wrong with me – why can’t I just fit and be content like everyone else?

Wiz: Hmm, being the only one asking “why” in a world of “yes” can indeed feel lonely. Kind of like being the single polka-dot tie in a sea of corporate grey suits. [pauses] You know, sometimes not fitting in just means your edges are shaped differently. Square peg, round hole. The usual story.

Isard: Exactly – a square peg in a world of round-hole contracts. I even started joking that my LinkedIn title should be “Freelance Square Peg (SAP Specialist)”. I actually did something bold last week: I wrote a LinkedIn post about all this. Spilled my guts about feeling like an SAP misfit. It was half rant, half heartfelt plea. I hit “Post” and immediately wanted to crawl under a rock. I thought I might get crucified for it, or worse – ignored.

Wiz: Ah yes, the old “air your professional insecurities on LinkedIn” move. Daring! raises an eyebrow So, what happened? Did the internet trolls have a field day, or did you strike a nerve?

Isard: To my surprise, it struck a nerve – a big one. The post blew up (well, by my standards anyway). Dozens of comments from other consultants and freelancers saying “I feel the same way!” or “Thought I was the only one who felt like a ghost in the office.” It was like I’d opened the floodgates of pent-up frustration. One person even thanked me for putting into words what they couldn’t. I had people messaging me, sharing their own misfit moments – like how they were left out of team lunches because they were just the contractor, or how they hated being referred to as “the SAP resource” as if they were a laptop or a chair. It was validating…and a bit heartbreaking. So many of us feeling like aliens at work, quietly thinking we just have to suck it up.

Wiz: Let me guess: not a single recruiter chimed in with “No, you’re all special unique flowers to me”? smirks I kid. But seriously, that reaction tells you something. If so many others feel the same, maybe the problem isn’t you at all. Maybe the environment – this traditional SAP contract culture – is built for a certain type of person, and you (and those who commented) just happen to be different types. Like warm-blooded mammals stuck in a reptile house. Uncomfortable climate, eh?

Isard: That’s a good way to put it. I’ve walked into some client sites that felt as welcoming as a reptile house on a winter’s day. Or a haunted house full of long-dead processes that everyone pretends are alive. [grins] You’d like this metaphor I used: I once described one of our legacy SAP systems as a haunted house – full of ghost transactions and zombie code nobody dared to touch. It got a few laughs, but also a few ahem stern looks from the old guard who didn’t appreciate the humour.

Wiz: Ha! A haunted SAP house with ghost transactions – I love it. Though I’m sure the stern look folks were thinking “who brought Scooby-Doo to the boardroom?” But hey, metaphors are how you cope and make sense of the madness. Nothing wrong with that, except it does mark you as someone who sees things differently. And to some, that’s as good as wearing a flashing neon sign that says “misfit”.

Isard: Right. And for a long time I took that as criticism. I felt like a misfit in the worst sense – like I was flawed. The message I got (implicit, rarely spoken) was: “Just do your job. You’re a contractor, not here to reinvent the wheel. Fit in or buzz off.” Basically, “be a good resource.” I even started to resent that word “resource.” I’m a person! Not a CPU core to allocate on a whim.

Wiz: Resource. Ugh, the R-word. As if you’re a line item or a battery pack. Calling people “resources” is about as personal as calling them “human capital” – doesn’t exactly make one feel warm and fuzzy. No wonder you felt dehumanised. It’s like they hired a ghost and then were surprised when you felt invisible! [Wiz rolls his eyes in mock disbelief]

Isard: It’s funny, isn’t it? We contractors often are apparitions in the corporate world. You join a project, wear the company badge, but you’re not really there in the company structure. Come Christmas, you’re not on the invite list. Team restructures happen, and you learn you’ve been moved (or eliminated) via an emailed org chart – if you’re lucky enough to see it at all. I’ve been “ghosted” in more org charts than I can count.

Wiz: The ghost in the org chart phenomenon – truly chilling. They should make a horror film just for consultants. In a theatrical voice: “He thought he was part of the team… until he vanished in the org chart at the stroke of midnight!” But seriously, this is structural. Traditional contract culture treats people as temporary by design: you’re a mercenary brought in for a specific battle, not a comrade for life. So yes, you are kept at arm’s length. It’s not personal, but it sure feels that way when you’re the one left out.

Isard: Exactly. And I understand it to a degree – businesses have to run efficiently, projects end, and contractors move on. But after so many years, it wears you down. You start wondering: Is it me? Am I just not cut out for this world I chose to work in? I mean, I chose to be a freelancer in SAP, and here I am complaining I don’t fit into SAP culture – ironic, no?

Wiz: Not that ironic. You chose to work with SAP, yes, but the culture around SAP projects? You didn’t exactly get a menu of cultures to choose from. You got the default: old-school, hierarchical, often rigid. It’s the contractor game – unspoken rule is, fit the mould, play nice, don’t rock the boat with your individuality, and you’ll get along fine. You, my friend, like many of your LinkedIn responders, apparently don’t love moulds. And boats that need rocking? You’re not seasick at the thought. So, what to do about it?

OCEAN Deep Dive – What the Personality Tests Say

Isard: Funnily enough, all this led me to retake an old personality test. You know the Big Five – O.C.E.A.N.? I figured if I’m such a misfit, maybe my traits are off-kilter for this line of work. So I did a full Big Five profile last night.

Wiz: Oh ho! The consultant turns to consultancy psychology. Let me grab popcorn. So, Dr. Isard, what do the results tell us about you? More importantly, do they explain our square peg situation?

Isard: In some ways, yes. For starters, Openness (O) – I scored very high. No surprise, I suppose. I love new ideas, creative approaches, and variety. I get bored doing the same old, same old. That’s great for innovation, but on a typical SAP contract, “tried and tested” is the holy mantra. They don’t necessarily want too much creativity from the SAP guy – they want you to follow the blueprint. I always struggled with that.

Wiz: High Openness in a land of fixed processes… that tracks. You’re the one saying “What if we try this different approach?” while everyone else clings to the almighty blueprint because “that’s how we’ve always done it.” It’s like bringing a paintbrush to a factory assembly line. They’re like “uh, we don’t do painting here, we assemble.” No wonder you felt out of place.

Isard: Then there’s Conscientiousness (C) – I’m about medium-high. I’m organised and reliable when it counts (you can’t survive 25 years in SAP without some rigour), but I’m not a total neat-freak or rule-stickler. I meet deadlines, I document what’s needed, yet I leave room for spontaneity and I despise bureaucracy for bureaucracy’s sake. Meanwhile, many corporate environments worship process and policy – the higher-ups practically get palpitations if you deviate from the PMO checklist. My moderate conscientiousness means I value getting things done, but I’m flexible in how. That can clash with rigid contract expectations.

Wiz: So, you’re responsible but not robotically so. Good – if you were low C you’d have been fired long ago for missing go-lives. If you were ultra-high C, you might actually fit in better with corporate rigidity (but then you wouldn’t be you). So medium-high C makes you competent, but still adaptable. I’d bet many career contractors learn to dial up Conscientiousness at work just to survive the process-on-steroids culture.

Isard: Probably. Now, Extraversion (E) – I’m actually ambiverted, slightly on the introvert side. I enjoy people, I can lead workshops and all, but it drains me. I’m not the consultant who schmoozes and networks at every opportunity. So I never did the constant networking or self-promotion that some do. In these big projects, extroverts seem to form instant “in-groups” – they go golfing with the managers, they’re chatting away during coffee breaks. As an introvert-leaning guy, I often stayed at my desk for lunch, or left early rather than socialise superficially. Not great for visibility or “fitting in”. I suspect that contributed to feeling like an outsider.

Wiz: A ghost in the org chart and the break room, huh? Introvert in a world of team players. Yeah, that can be hard. Corporate life (even contractor life) often rewards the loud and seen. The more you “put yourself out there,” the more you get included. When you don’t, people might assume you’re aloof or just not interested. In reality, you were probably recharging or avoiding small talk about the weather and last night’s football. [Wiz shrugs] It’s a trade-off: protect your energy and feel like a misfit, or fake extroversion and feel drained. Tough call.

Isard: Right. And I never could bring myself to do the full fake extrovert act. Next trait: Agreeableness (A) – I scored moderate-low. I’m empathetic and friendly, but I won’t just say yes to avoid conflict. In fact, I have a bit of a contrarian streak. If something seems off, I speak up. I’ve challenged project managers on decisions when I thought they were leading to disaster. That never wins popularity contests on a tight deadline. A lot of contractors just nod and invoice – keep the head down. I’ve never been good at that if I see a problem brewing. So yeah, my lower agreeableness means I don’t love being a passive yes-man, and that definitely feeds the misfit narrative.

Wiz: Oh boy, a low-A contrarian in corporate consulting – you really were playing on hard mode! Many workplaces (not just SAP projects) expect a veneer of agreeableness, especially from externals: “Don’t rock the boat, don’t ruffle feathers.” Meanwhile you’re there going, “This plan is nonsense, we should change course.” Necessary candour, but often unwelcome. They want a pleasant resource, not a truth-telling rebel. I wager some folks tagged you as “not a team player” for that, when in reality you cared too much about the project’s success to stay silent.

Isard: I think you’re right. I’ve been called “challenging” or “not always easy” in those end-of-contract feedback sessions – usually code for “he didn’t just smile and agree with everything.” Finally, Neuroticism (N) – I’m actually fairly low on that. I handle stress quite well (years in SAP firefights will do that). I don’t panic easily, and I try to stay emotionally level. So at least I wasn’t the anxious type worrying myself sick. If anything, being low neuroticism helped me survive the craziness without losing my marbles. But it also meant when I was genuinely unhappy, I suppressed it longer – I could tolerate the discomfort longer than maybe I should have. A more neurotic person might have quit earlier from the sheer stress of misfitness. I kind of endured it calmly, which in hindsight maybe wasn’t great.

Wiz: Low N – the stoic misfit. Suffering in silence (mostly), not freaking out, but also perhaps not realising how much it bothered you until it accumulated. That fits. So, summing up your OCEAN: High Openness, moderate-high Conscientiousness, introvert-leaning, low Agreeableness, low Neuroticism. In short, independent-minded, creative, principled, calm. Honestly, sounds like great ingredients for, say, an entrepreneur or a specialist expert. But in a traditional SAP contract, the “ideal” might be somewhat different: follow the process, be sociable but not too individualistic, be agreeable and flexible to demands, and don’t bring too many crazy ideas. You can see the mismatch.

Isard: Yeah, the ideal contractor profile feels like: moderately Open (innovative but not too off-the-wall), very Conscientious (so they never miss a beat), high Agreeableness (so they’ll adapt and won’t argue), high Extroversion (so they integrate quickly with teams), and low Neuroticism (so they handle stress). I’m basically the inverse on a couple of those. No wonder I always felt like I was swimming upstream.

Wiz: And yet, you succeeded for 25 years. Let’s not forget that. It’s not like you were fired left and right. You delivered value, often by being that different puzzle piece who could see things differently. Maybe the very traits that made you feel like a misfit also made you damn good at solving certain problems. I bet when a project was on fire, your low neuroticism kept you cool. When a design was stuck, your high openness sparked a fresh solution. When a plan was flawed, your low agreeableness drove you to flag it early. Sure, you ruffled feathers, but how many issues did you prevent or fix by being that way?

Isard: That’s true. There were definitely times I spoke up about a risk and saved a ton of pain later, even if I wasn’t very popular in the moment. And times my weird analogy or offbeat perspective actually helped the team understand something important. I once compared a convoluted workflow to “a Rube Goldberg machine built by Frankenstein” – people laughed, but then we had a serious talk about simplifying it. I think I’ve tried to bring a bit of humanity and creativity into a rather dry SAP world. It hasn’t been all for nothing.

Wiz: So you were adding value by being you, even if the culture didn’t overtly reward it. This is key: your personality isn’t a liability; it’s an asset in the right context. The trick is, you were often in the wrong context for those assets to shine without friction. Which brings us to a hard question, my friend…

Rebel, Don’t Just Resource – Changing the Game

Wiz: If your personality doesn’t fit those typical SAP contracts, why keep contorting yourself to apply for them? Rhetorical, of course. You’ve proven you can survive in that world, but at what cost? Perhaps the biggest realisation here – for you, and all the other “misfits” who resonated – is that maybe you shouldn’t be aiming to fit in at all. Maybe you should be aiming elsewhere, or aiming higher.

Isard: You mean… not take those contracts anymore? But that’s my bread and butter. It’s what I know. The idea of walking away from the familiar, even if it’s uncomfortable, is scary. What would I even do instead?

Wiz: Instead of trying to be a round peg, go find a square hole! In more plain terms: seek out projects, roles, or clients where an independent, innovative streak is valued. They do exist. Smaller startups, forward-thinking companies, or direct clients who need a fresh perspective rather than a conformist. Or create your own gig – you’ve got the experience to consult on your own terms, remember? You said it yourself in that other conversation of ours: you want to be more entrepreneurial. This misfit realisation only reinforces that. Why chase a seat at a table that wants you to shave off your corners, when you can build your own table shaped exactly how you like?

Isard: True… I have been moving in that direction, albeit slowly. That LinkedIn post was kind of step one – admitting it publicly. The next steps are trickier. It means redefining how I present myself. It’s like turning my personality into my positioning, like you said. How do I do that, practically? In a CV or pitch, I can’t exactly say “Hello, I’m a contrarian creative who hates being called a resource, hire me!” [laughs] Or can I?

Wiz: Maybe not in those words, unless you want to scare off old-school recruiters (which, honestly, might be a filter not a flaw). But you can definitely infuse your branding with you. For instance, emphasize your innovation and willingness to challenge status quo – frame it as a positive: “I help clients see problems from new angles to find solutions others miss.” Highlight your experience in firefighting projects calmly: “Battle-tested in high-pressure SAP go-lives – I stay cool and focused where others panic.” Make your independence a selling point: “An independent SAP expert who isn’t afraid to speak up for what’s right for the project.”

Essentially, take those misfit traits and present them as exactly what certain clients need. Because somewhere out there, a client is drowning in groupthink and could really use a contrarian perspective. Or they have a messy “haunted” SAP system and need someone unafraid to venture into it with a fresh approach. You want to attract those opportunities, and gently repel the ones that want a compliant cog.

Isard: That makes sense. It’s a bit of a gamble – it’s easier to just say “SAP consultant with 25 years experience” and tick the usual boxes. But that’s what led me here, feeling hollow. If I instead say “SAP consultant who’ll tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear,” I’ll certainly stand out. Might lose some gigs, but the ones I get will be a better fit. It’s like dating, in a way – if you pretend to be someone else, you might get more matches, but the relationship will suck. Better to be authentic and find the right match.

Wiz: Absolutely. Authentic positioning is like a beacon: it might not attract the masses, but it will attract the right tribe. And you have a tribe, as evidenced by that LinkedIn response. There are more of you out there. Imagine building a network or community of SAP misfits – sharing opportunities that value misfits, swapping war stories, even referring each other to those special clients who “get it.” You wouldn’t be lonely then, would you? You’d belong with the other misfits – who in that context aren’t misfits at all, just fits.

Isard: smiles thoughtfully A misfit network… a band of rebels with skillsets, united by a refusal to be just resources. I kind of love that. It’s like the No Tie Generation idea I’ve been circling around – not literally about ties, but about not strangling our individuality just to conform. We cut the literal or figurative tie and define success on our own terms.

Wiz: raises an imaginary toast Hear, hear – less “resource,” more rebel with a skillset! That’s the spirit. You know, the more you embrace this, the more you’ll see being a misfit as a badge of honour. The word might never lose all its sting – we’re social creatures who like to fit in, after all – but you can redefine who your “in-group” is. It might not be BigCorp Inc. with its haunted SAP system and rigid org chart. It might be a niche you carve out, where your ghostly superpowers can shine.

Isard: I feel that. Already, this conversation is making me see things in a new light. Maybe I’m not supposed to fit in there. Maybe all those years of discomfort were gently nudging me toward something different, something that actually suits me.

Wiz: Exactly. What if the very fact you felt out of place is your inner compass telling you where to go next? It’s like pain in the body – not pleasant, but it signals where to pay attention. Your career pain points indicate “hey, look over here, change something!” It’s feedback. And you’re finally listening to it.

Isard: Better late than never, right? I used to envy those who seemed to slide right into the corporate consulting groove, but now I realise I was envying the wrong thing. There’s nothing admirable about betraying yourself to fit in. What’s admirable is forging a path where you don’t have to. I’m finally okay with being the odd one out in their world, because I’m on my way to my world – one I’ll create, or at least choose deliberately.

Wiz: That’s the ticket. There’s a kind of peace that comes with accepting your misfitness. It turns into a source of power. Instead of feeling shame or frustration, you feel motivation. You think, “How can I use this?” Because the misfit isn’t broken. They’re just built for something different.

Isard: nods, Built for something different… I like that. It’s encouraging. It means all this wasn’t for nothing – it was for discovery.

Wiz: My friend, you were never broken, and you’re certainly not alone. You’re part of an unseen army of round pegs, free spirits, and yes, rebels with skillsets, who are done contorting themselves to fit corporate molds. We’re at a turning point – people like you are realising en masse that it’s okay to walk away from what destroys your spirit and towards what energises it. And you’ll take your considerable skills with you, on your own terms.

Isard: Thank you, Wiz. For the reality check and the pep talk. I feel oddly…lighter. Like the haunted house I’ve been wandering finally has an exit sign.

Wiz: Anytime. That’s what I’m here for – a dry wit with a dose of wisdom. Now, go forth and embrace your inner misfit. Write about it, talk about it, build on it. There are others out there waiting to hear that they’re not the only ones, and that it’s not a dead-end – it’s just a detour to a better path.

Isard: I will. The confessions won’t stop here. In fact, I have a feeling this dialogue will spark more – in me and maybe in whoever reads it.

Wiz: Good. Let it spread. Here’s to the misfits – may we never again let anyone treat us as just resources. Onwards, to where we truly belong.

Isard: Raises his mug of tea in a mock toast To the misfits and the road ahead. Onwards!