I remember when I lost my job.
While at the time I was shocked and devastated and overwhelmed and confused and _______________ (fill-in-the-blank), I was also immensely relieved. Immensely! I could breathe again!
I was relieved because I did not have to go to that place anymore. I did not have to do that job anymore. I did not have to encounter any personal brands that started with the first letter of the alphabet and ended with its fifth. I did not have to worry about Sunday night rolling around when I would feel myself getting stressed. I did not have to respond to the president of the company’s buzzer anymore. I cannot tell you how happy all of these things I did not have to do anymore made me. Relieved. Immensely!
As a Baby Boomer, I was taught over and over again, get a job, keep your nose clean, and you will always be taken care of.
Fortunately, that particular line of thinking was challenged when I was canned early in my career. The insubordination kind of canned, mind you.
All over one silly dime. My immediate supervisor (the president of the company) gave me a nickel an hour raise. Five cents. (All the while he told me repeatedly that I was the most competent individual who had ever worked for him in 50+ years – go figure!) After working up much courage, I asked for a dime and that is the single, simple reason I got the boot.
One thin dime did me in. Asking for what I thought was fair and reasonable did me in.
I found out later when the same guy that gave me the boot wanted to rehire me that the reason for my demise was “crossing the line” (his exact words) hence my “‘insubordination.” I crossed-the-line by asking for more money and it cost me my job. That is the reason I was given, straight from the horse’s mouth. And the reality is, had I not been terminated from that job, I don’t think I would have ever found the courage, at that time, to leave. Someone did me a favor and set my life on a better, truer path.
When I lost my job, I had no idea how I would pay the rent, buy groceries, live, pay a very large student loan, forget going out – I just knew that it would all work out. I don’t know how I knew it, I just knew it.
IT WILL ALL WORK OUT.
That’s what I’d been told throughout my ‘growing up’ years by my parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, and other people I respected and trusted.
IT WILL ALL WORK OUT.
And here, these many years later as a career transition consultant, what do I find myself saying to job seekers when I can find no other words that seem right at the moment…I say what many someone’s said to me a long while ago,
IT WILL ALL WORK OUT.
Maybe not the way you thought. Maybe not the way you intended. Maybe not the way you planned. Maybe not with the strategy you so perfectly designed and executed. Maybe not with the people you thought. Maybe not in the city or state you thought. Maybe not doing the thing you ever thought you would do. Maybe not as fast as you thought. Maybe not with the outcome you had hoped for. And maybe better than you could ever imagine. And maybe more incredible than you could ever dream. And maybe the best thing that ever happened to you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
IT WILL ALL WORK OUT!
cross-posted billiesucherblog
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