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Jumping Ship

5/31/2013

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A few days ago, I submitted my week's notice to my boss.   
As I looked across the table at the man I'd spent nearly a dozen years with, I was riddled with anxiety and guilt.   I held my breath and adopted an internal chant of encouragement: 'you can do this.'   I waited for a natural moment in the conversation to break it to him, desiring to do so as gently as I could - but the subject matter at hand wasn't making it easy.  In fact, he was going on an on about the difficulty in replacing good people.   Just my luck, really  - before I marched into his office, fully prepared to deliver my news, I hadn't been aware that he had lost two other sales people in the course of three days.   I was about to become his third.

Well, damn.  I liked my boss.  I respected him.  He reminded me very much of my father, especially in his mannerisms as he candidly shared his plans for covering his losses and what a pain in his ass it was to interview new people.  Every word was unraveling my nerve.   I felt selfish.  I felt I was about to betray him.  Every fiber in my being wanted to jump up, and commit myself, sacrificially and stupidly, to staying right where I was.       
But no.   Something primal drove me forward - I knew better than to stay on a ship I knew had been sinking under me for a very long time and offered nothing but a watered-down grave for the person I wanted to become.  My decision was sound and my motivations were true.  I thought of my boys and my ability to provide more effectively for them.  I thought of my own potential.  I thought of shrugging off the chains of business philosophies I no longer agreed with.  
And then, I took a deep breath, and I made the words happen.  "I'm here today to resign."  I saw the flash of shock in his eyes, but I bit back on the apology before it had a chance to escape me.  I had a bad habit of apologizing for things that weren't mine to be sorry for.  Part of my new plans involved breaking myself of that.  I would move forward - I would be strong - I would be confident!
The conversation following was short and a bit terse.  There wasn't much left to say.  We worked out the details of my last day and the transfers of clients.  Then, I thanked him and stood to leave.  He said it had been great to work with me - a pleasure and an honor.   My heart finally broke.  I burst into tears as I started for his office door.   I was completely embarrassed - so much for that strong and confident crap - what the hell was I doing?!   As I paused in that brief moment to collect myself before walking out into the main area, my heart beating like the hooves of mustangs, my then ex-boss showed a rare moment of compassion:   a half-hug and the words, "You'll be okay."
I crossed the threshold.  He was right.

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    I am...

    Rachea.  And I am a recovering Marthaholic.  
    There, I said it.  *sigh*   Years I wasted on perfection & trying to live up to someone else's standards.  Now I live for my own, on my own terms, & in the most unapologetic way possible. 

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