I should re-title. Why reinforce the “you’re a failure” mantra running through my head?
But I believe in honesty. So failure it is.
And while we’re being honest, I got fired. Yep. Fired from my Dream Job. Can you even believe it? I still can’t. As I write those words, a rock sinks into the pit of my stomach and I feel a little like crying, a little like vomiting.
Ironically, it was just my last blog (7 months ago) that celebrated the acquisition of this Dream Job. It turned out to be not quite as Dreamy as I hoped. The work was wonderful and life-changing; my clients were some of the most interesting and beautiful people I’d met; and my coworkers included some of the most selfless people I’ve encountered. But I have a big mouth (and I would argue, a big heart), and I did too much; asked too many questions; challenged too many old ideas and methods; and ultimately, helped a client beyond the realm of what was required.
Leading up to this, I was constantly growing in frustration with my work. Anxiety filled my Sunday evenings, in anticipation of returning to work on Monday. The environment had become so hostile and tense that I did my best to avoid being in the office and to be around clients when at all possible. When I was with my clients and some coworkers, it was in fact my Dream Job. But there were those who made it miserable, and they – unfortunately – were in charge.
As I struggled to maintain this physically and emotionally draining full-time job, I also attempted to manage an increasingly successful photography business (along with Nicole and Ang, of course :)), and be a mom. I often found myself asking God, Is this how life is really supposed to be? Perpetually exhausting? I was constantly thinking and scheming and planning how I could quit my job and pursue photography full-time, so I could be free to volunteer in the capacity that I longed to serve the refugee community. I desperately craved time: to write, to play with Hadley, to grow as a photographer, and to be a better friend and neighbor. But I feared that I did not have the money to step out and give it a shot. The night before returning to work on that fateful Tuesday, I laid in bed and prayed, “God, I am always thinking about what’s next. I’m so tired. But maybe I should just ask you. What do you want me to do?” I went to bed peacefully, and went to work in the morning ready to embrace a new perspective that this must be what God has for me right now.
And then I got fired.
Oh the irony.
I know God can use anything to speak to us. But really. Fired??!
I could have probably just apologized, said I was wrong, put my head down, and shut my mouth. But I don’t believe any job should require the sacrifice of who you are. And I think there are worse reasons to be fired than doing what I felt (and still feel) was the right thing. And I do believe I did the right thing.
But man, it hurts like hell.
I could really use a date with Jesus, but instead I’ve been hanging out a lot with my pillow. I’ve given myself two weeks off – ask me how I’m doing next week.
But I guess I’m back in the blogging world. I have no doubt that my newfound free time will quickly be filled with hobbies and play dates and *hopefully* photography sessions (one does have to pay the bills!), but I hope I will have time to take pictures for fun, to write, to read, and most importantly, to get to know this little toddler of mine.