I was asked to “voluntarily resign” from a job. I knew that I did not want to return, but to be asked to leave was another thing. I was working twelve hour days and weekends. I was also on call. The company culture was if you make the type of money that I made at my age (of which some people thought I was not deserving) then you must prove your worth to anyone who deems you unworthy. The game was that you would never be able to prove your worth. The game was to break you so that you would eventually succumb to the expectation that mediocrity was the standard and who were you to think that you could change it. In addition to all of that I was still trying to prove my worth to myself. My confusion with the ‘voluntary resignation” was that I never asked for the job. I was chosen for the position and highly recommended. Years later my faith would bring me to understand that it was a set up. Before this happened I didn’t know that I was a validation fiend. I didn’t know that I based my worth on my educational accomplishments, job title and the approval of my supervisors. I was distraught when all of my hard work and effort went unnoticed, unappreciated and dismissed. I even had a posse of “mean girls” plotting to destroy any efforts I put forward. I put my value in others opinions of me. The thought of being seen as not good enough haunted me. Didn’t they know how hard I fought to get here? Didn’t they care that I love my work and prided myself in doing a job well done? The real question was didn’t I know and why did I forget? How disappointed I was to learn that men and grown women could be mean girls. But how encouraged was I to know within myself that I was worthy before I got there and I would worthy when I left. How encouraged was I to learn that beautiful people exist in ugly situations. How thrilled was I to remember that I had survived this situation before. And even when it looked like I was alone, I never was. Angels or mentors (whatever you want to call them) were always around. I was a survivor at age five when my mother left and never came back, I was a survivor at age 11 when my grandmother died and I had to move in with my great aunt, I was a survivor when my great aunt was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, I was a survivor when my mother died, I was a survivor when my husband and I were doing respite care for eight years for my six nieces and nephew and I was always surrounded by love, real support and prayers. I had everything I needed but I couldn’t see it because I was looking for it from people who didn’t have it to give. Had I not been brought to my knees , I might have never looked up. I almost believed I was who they said I was until discernment showed me, that God prepared me for a time such as this.
What is the lie? The lie is that a job well done is only a job well done when someone recognizes it. A job well done is not perfect. It is a job done with transparency, integrity, passion & tangible results. Your best is good enough and knowing that is the beginning of truly living ; even when it isn’t recognized by others. Sometimes the fall is necessary to place you in the right position. #thedeathofalie #deathofalie #phillitiacharlton
What lies have to die so that you can live?