So, why am I here now? Well, because I got fired.
This is not an easy thing for me to admit. I've never been the girl that got 'let-go', that's not a part of the professional image I had constructed for myself. In all of my prior jobs, my employers wanted me to stay when I left. But there I was, holding my last paycheck, offered a box for my belongings, asked to hand over my keys and leave the building.
I had worked for the company for nearly two years. The last time I had been sat down for a meeting, it was for a raise and a bonus. It wasn't my dream job, but I was still stunned. Mostly, I was hurt. The answer they gave me when I asked why? was unsatisfactory, though a sudden release wasn't uncommon in my workplace. However, this post isn't about trashing my former employers. Despite the end, I gained experience, made good contacts, and found financial stability.
The week after was a reckoning. There I was, twenty-five, and my life didn't even remotely resemble what my ten-year-old, sixteen-year-old, hell, even my twenty-two-year-old self thought my life was going to look like at this point. Twenty-five sounds, well, pretty adult. Shouldn't I have things generally sorted at this point? Instead, I was abruptly unemployed, the thought of grad school abandoned, in a long distance relationship with a Marine, watching my parents divorce. This had not been the plan.
I've been known to succumb to destructive anxious circular thinking, those thoughts that play in a non-stop loop, sometimes to the detriment of my physical health. With this in my past, it seemed like the natural next step in between filing for unemployment and trying to come up with a reason to wear something other than sweatpants. That voice does whisper somewhere in the back of my mind, you should be freaking out about this, but weirdly enough... I'm not listening. Actually, it's been awhile since I've felt this good.
Here's the thing about going off-script, you get to rewrite the whole thing. Turns out, it isn't as scary as it sounds. Because even though the preconceived notion of my mid-twenties-existence is out the window, I'm not starting over. I'm good at things; I have skills and passions and a big-ass smile, which I've found counts for a lot. If your future goes blank, remember your past won't, and there are plenty of strengths you've stored there. You have enough to go forward, and just maybe, that terrible thing isn't quite so terrible as you thought.
If I was adding skills to my LinkedIn profile (which I've been doing a lot of lately), prayer probably isn't one I'd list. I've always been bad about asking for help, even from God. Losing my job has been a humbling experience, it brought me low, looking outside of myself. In this place, I found it was suddenly much easier to ask God for this guidance, because I could see I didn't have this whole situation sorted out. So I ask God pretty frequently now to help lay a path for me, show me where I should go. I ask if I'm right to think that it's time to try something new, take a risk, strike out on my own like my heart is calling for. It seems that every time I ask, something comes to me in affirmation of my desires, whether it be a card from a friend, a new opportunity, a well-placed compliment from a stranger. In these moments, I laugh a little, and cast my eyes upward.
For the time being, at least, you'll find me relishing in the blank page and the strength of a prayer.
and you will always look lovely."