For the last several weeks, I had been waiting for a response to a job I had truly truly wanted. It meant creative freedom, respect from fellow future colleagues, no more partial unemployment. It meant that I had found what I had lost. For the last five and a half years I have been trying to dig out of a hole and I believed that I may have just seen a glimmer of light. I opened my email anxiously on Friday and there it was…the “Golden Ticket”. I clicked on that email and began to read finding that my “Golden Ticket” had in fact been a scalped ticket. “We have decided to hire another candidate…”
Chest pain, stomach ache, head ache from attempting to hold back tears so that my co-workers would not know that I can be weak. My body was rejecting what my mind was coming to terms with. Immediately I attempted to call my dad, my mom, and my husband. No answers. If they did pick up the phone, what answer was I looking for? Finally, my dad picked up my second phone call and gives me wonderful words of encouragement. He always gives me peace of mind with his calm sound advice. My husband calls me upset that the interviewer had given me the assumption that the job was mine, when in fact, it was up for grabs for anyone who applied. Then, my mom calls and says something strange. With confidence she says, “You know what? Be sad. Let yourself be sad, just don’t over do it.”
What? I am allowed to be sad? Myself and many others take pride in the fact that we can just “brush it off our shoulders” and move on. Yes, we might go home and have a balling session in an hour long shower, but no one knows it and all evidence goes right down the drain. “Oh. My eyes are only red because I got soap in them”.
Whenever I cry, I can’t help but think of Alice in Wonderland. Here she is, in this odd world, trusting strangers, and doing everything she can to get home, and she breaks down and cries. Until my mom told me, “Be sad”, I had always seen Alice as a wimp, an annoying cry baby I would try to avoid at all costs. Now I realize that yes, she cried, and so much so, that she was able to successfully move. on.
So that Friday night I attempted to let myself “be sad”. I pulled on my jammies, turned on those lovely Lifetime movies, and cuddled with my pup. Randomly, a crying outburst would sneak up on me and I allowed it to continue it’s path. Once Saturday morning came about, I felt a little refreshed. Not to say I was no longer disappointed, but rather accepted the fact. It was that morning I decided that my mission was to figure out what the heck to do next. Because after all, once Alice rode out her sea of tears, she didn’t stand still.