The truth is, I fully intended to start the New Year on the right foot. I had an idea how I wanted this year’s post to read, but I didn’t have it in me. The words were there, but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew months ago that I couldn’t start this year with the same “life is great” post for which blogs have become synonymous. That was not my situation.
Every once in a while, life can knock you on you’re a** something serious. And I’m not talking about the simple stumble that you can play off with a light jog. I’m talking about a fall so hard that you can’t do anything but sit there reliving the moments that landed you on the ground in the first place. You just take your time regaining your balance. Consider my absence as taking my time to get back up.
If I’m being completely honest, 2015 was so incredibly humbling. In a matter of months, I left a job I began to resent to accept my first full-time position in my field and then lost it all. It happened exactly 10 days after my 28th birthday.
For some reason, I thought it was going to be a special day mainly because on my way to work, I found a brand new pair of aviators. The day carried on like any other day. I furiously tapped away at my keyboard trying to complete a listicle about a movie I’d just seen. Just after lunch at about 1 p.m., the social media coordinator called a team member in the hot box of an office that was just feet away from my seat. Then the editorial manager called in a team member. The girl who was called in sat directly behind me. I remember feeling sorry for her as I heard her pleading her case through the make-shift door that didn’t even have a knob. The girl returned sobbing to her manager who was also her friend. Right at that moment, my heart started pounding unsure of who was next. I assumed there were more because of the small crowd that formed in the adjacent room. Then my LastPass expired, which is the password manager we used, and I was positive it wasn’t a coincidence.
“Yaszy can I speak to you?” My manager asked. I hated that she knew my nickname.
Inside the small office, she told me the company was restructuring by 15 percent and I was one of the people they were letting go. She informed me that it had nothing to do with my work ethic as she lowered her big blue eyes. I felt myself nodding as she finished up and the CFO told me they would pay me in two weeks.
“Thank you,” was all I said before shaking her hand and walking to my work desk to gather my things. It was just a personal notebook, my AP style guide and a miniature Aflac duck I won during an insurance demonstration. I walked out the office, waited for the door to click behind me and exhaled.
As strange as it sounds, I felt relieved. I still can’t explain it. All I know is, I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry even though I tried to force myself to. It wasn’t normal. Nothing about the hours after was normal. I remember thinking how beautiful the day was. Of all the days to be let go from a job, that was the best day, I thought to myself. That day, I was grateful for my bumpy journey that led me here. I would be alright. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
It’s been a little over three months now. I’m working again and trying really hard to honor my prayers a little more these days. I’ve had some really great days, but some pretty sh*tty ones tool. The worst part of it all hasn’t been about me. No, the worst part has been feeling like I let down my love. I wrote about it once and cried the entire time.
Unlike before, I’m really unsure what the future holds. Most days I feel like I’m just wandering through life.But from here on out because it’s my new year do-over and all, I will try harder to gain my footing. This month, I will be more productive than last month. Wish me luck!