I was recently passed over for a job I have dreamed of having for years, in favor of a younger (and cheaper) person.
My heart is heavy and I feel old. I just knew it was mine! As I understand, there were a lot of politics at work and I am, apparently, not as connected as I thought I was. Where is my beach when I need it?
I was blind-sided by not only the decision of the “powers that be”, but also by my own grief. In fact, the grief was/is so strong, it is vaguely reminiscent of the miscarriages I had years ago. The pain is very real, but no one knows or understands. And so, instead of just allowing me to grieve and heal, they feel compelled to speak. And how!
In amazingly painful parallels, they speak in platitudes. Meaningless words from those employed in fields they love. So similar to the all too often heard “You can always try again.”, “It just wasn’t meant to be”, and, “God is in control”. Only now it’s, “Well, give it a couple of years and try again.”, and, “You can always look at other companies.” These now join the well-known: “It just wasn’t meant to be”, and, “God is in control”. Ugh!
Look, I’m not going to stay in the dumps forever. Just allow me to grieve and I promise I will move on. I always have.
When I was pregnant, I had begun to live in a future world, one where the whole process ended with a baby. I had dreams for my unborn child. I had hopes, huge hopes. I had names picked out. Birth dates were penciled in as best any doctor could predict. And, then, the future crumbled. Hope died with my dreams and though the dates were erased from my calendar, they remain seared in my heart to this day.
I had dreams for my career too.
I have beautiful children now and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but I will never forget what might have been, had it not been lost. And, I will never understand “Why?”
I don’t think I will ever be able to completely forget “what might have been”, career-wise either. Maybe, like having children, something will work out for me down the road. I hope, but I’m not holding my breath. I gave up asking “Why?” a long time ago. My heart is so heavy.
Let it go.
Oh, well. (sigh)
If only I had a Plan B.