Thursday, December 21, 2017


"No good decision is based on fear. So you break your leg; you heal and you learn."
~Elyse Rogers, Executive VP, Artist Partner Group, Dance Hall Crashers

Yesterday the hiring manager for the editor position I interviewed for called to offer me the job. The pay was no where near great, but the flexibility as well as the chance to grow within the company made this position an appealing transition from academia. Instantly the hiring manager could tell something was wrong. When I told her about a potential relocation, the offer immediately vanished.

On the heels of this event, I made the mistake of checking my news feed. Faces of old, privileged men congratulating themselves on finding a legal way to milk the U.S. populous greeted me. How those elected to serve the populous have unknowingly found a way to completely break the system. And how they don't even understand what comes from that destruction.

I've been thinking about breaking, mainly because I feel so broken at the moment. The high I was riding a couple of weeks ago has completely vanished in light of having to reset and plan for a potentially rapid transition. In moments of clarity, I see the need for this to happen. That for too long we have been limping along while trying to fit ourselves into what we were told was the best path forward. But the truth is, that fear of breaking has been keeping us at bay. The fear of it being so terrible that there will be no way to repair.

One major benefit of infertility is you learn that the fear of failure and breaking is always worse than it actually happening. Though each miscarriage and failed cycle left indelible scars, the fear was always far more crippling. Boston has taught us a similar lesson with job losses and living in poverty; learning to crawl our way out of crippling circumstances. At this point, I think Grey and I have both hit bottom so often that being there, though awful, has become familiar terrain that we're willing to sit with and explore.

Yesterday was the beginning of this next round of breaks. Grey is doing his part, confronting managers with truths that they are quietly acknowledging but also reaching out to those who are willing to work with him to grow. Sitting in a coffee shop this morning, I'm starting to do the same thing, shrugging off the warnings so many are quick to give us and focusing on the people and opportunities that are offering a path forward.

Because the option of playing it safe is actually one that will literally kill us. Frankly, I'd rather live.


  1. Oh hon, I am so sorry. What a mindfuck.

  2. Sending you hugs. For what it's worth, you don't seem broken to me. You seem like someone who is doing an amazing job trying to manage an overwhelming amount of complexity and challenge. Good for you for focusing on a path forward!

  3. I am so, so sorry for that turn of events, and that you're feeling broken. I wish that there could be the good kind of break for you, sooner than later. I do love the message that opening yourself up for risk and breaks is what helps you to grow, as painful as it is. I like to think about muscle order to build lovely useful muscles, the fibers have to rip and then heal, over and over and over again. I hope for the healing part, soon.

  4. Just wrapping you up in a blanket of love. It's hard now, but it won't always be. I really like your point about the fear of something being worse than the something itself. Big hugs.

  5. I'm sorry I didn't get to this earlier. I'm hoping that you can at least feel positive that you got the initial offer, that they really valued you. But I understand feeling broken too. And the voices of others - well, often we shouldn't listen, unless of course it is a question of listening to your friends here. Others are so quick to catastrophise, it can be overwhelming. (Though I've learned to laugh at them now.)

    So I was really happy to see this at the end - "...focusing on the people and opportunities that are offering a path forward." That's all you can do, and it's huge.
    Sending love and hugs.


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