Why is it that we as a society get so wrapped up in our identity based on what we do, rather than who we are?
I include myself in this question, as it is something I'm currently struggling with. And in the interest of keeping it real here, I'll talk about it.
I was hired at company A (I'd rather not say the name, just to keep things private) in August 2007. I was 22 years old, fresh out of college, and eager for my first "real" job. My boss took a chance on me, a kid with book-smarts but not a lot of office-smarts. I had no idea how to work a fax machine. But I was a sponge, ready to absorb whatever I could and begin the climb of the working-gal ladder. There were many bumps in the road. At one point, I thought for sure I would quit and find something else. Michael and I moved to Kansas in August 2009. To my surprise, my boss wanted to keep me on in a different role-a telecommuting position that expanded my role and allowed me to explore new territory with internet marketing, social media, and website development management. This was a job I was proud to tell people about when you meet someone for the first time and they ask, "So, what do you do?"
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I was laid off by company A. They need to reduce their marketing budget, want to move their marketing in-house (they're in NC, I'm in KS) and utilize employees they already have who are physically there. I can't compete with that since I'm 1100 miles away. They already reduced my hours over the summer, so this was the final cut.
Some additional things happened over the past week that I don't really want to chronicle, but tonight I'm officially done with company A. I typed up a letter to my boss that finalized it. And I'm a mixed bag of so many emotions. Relief. Sadness. Frustration.
I know as the days and weeks pass, and as I get a little distance from it to clear my head, I'll be able to hold my head up and be proud that I advocated for my long-term mental health and well being. But right now it feels like a death, in a way. There's some aspects of the job that I'll really miss, including some of my colleagues. It's a little easier since I've been telecommuting for 3 years. But we all know what happens when a coworker moves on. We move on, too, even when they're our Facebook friends.
The other part of this that's hard for me is to not internalize it and blame myself. I know logically that it isn't. But there's just something so soul crushing about losing your job-if you give into that. I have all these awful thoughts swirling in my head, like I'm a failure, I can't provide for our family while Michael's in school, a waste of a degree, etc. Ugh. Part of it goes back to that question of our identity being so closely tied to what we do. I'm embarrassed that it appears I care what others think about me in that way. It shouldn't, but I can't help it.
I know all of those things are not true. And that in spite of this set back, I'm so blessed. I just have to work on thinking about all the things that are true and good. Things like: I still have two part time jobs that help provide for our family. It seems like our income keeps going down, but yet somehow the budget works out each month and Michael and I can pay our bills. We had plans to move fairly soon, either to rent another place or buy-thank GOD that He said "wait" on that prayer so that didn't become another thing to worry about right now. And even though a fairly sizable chunk of our income just went away, we're still on track to reaching our Big Gift goal (a set amount for our church's end of year fund that goes to specific projects).
The hardest part of all of this is probably the patience as I wait to see what unfolds next. I'm constantly being tested in a different part of my life with patience, so in a way, it's really defeating to have this added to my plate. But I just have to press on into the knowledge that something better is around the corner. What is that...full time at EastLake? Something at the hospital? A different job entirely? A period of frugality until Michael graduates? Some of these things may not even be possibilities. All I can do is wait, trust God, and move forward knowing that this period of uncertainty is just for a season.
