A couple of months ago one of the most embarrassing things happened to me.
My blogging career was upended.
Most people who know me know that I was pretty vociferous about my good fortune to work at Goodenoughmother.com; so how do you announce so publicly that such a good thing is no longer your thing?
I didn’t. I let it slink into the background because my feelings were hurt, and worse, I was afraid my reputation was tarnished.
If you follow me at all you know the story. Girl sees TV personality on television, girl makes call, girl heads to Disney World and a dream job. I was working at home, traveling when I could, writing about my life, soaking it all up.
So when something like that ends, who do you tell? How do you make an announcement?
You basically sit at home and scramble. You hit your contact list hard, hope they still remember you (it was like a day after everything happened), and try to dust the shame under the rug while still holding on to those shiny pennies that, when you are down to your last, might just make for a nice little rainy day fund. Hopefully you don’t understand because understanding means you’ve been there – and there ain’t pretty.
That’s where I was a couple of months ago. Some noticed and called. Some probably noticed and said nothing. Others are probably reading this and wondering what the heck? Well, you can hear a little bit of what went down here.
Now, I could sit here and say that what happened next had nothing to do with me. Yes, I told whoever asked what happened, but I also decided to reach out to real people. See, my contacts are people that aren’t close. They wouldn’t hear the tears in the emails. I’ll call them the easy tells.
But some people weren’t so easy. I knew they would know how much this meant to me because I’d told them as much.
Then there was YOU. John Q. Public. I never told anyone I wasn’t working there because part of my “you can do it, too” ‘tude/persona/message was all about Something Wonderful and this didn’t feel too wonderful.
Which we know I didn’t lose everything wonderful; something wonderful happens every day.
Ah, yes! You’ve fallen into my inevitable trap! Something wonderful does happen every day. I was closing the book when only the chapter was over.
And yes! All the “let down to be a lift up” memes are true. It wasn’t long before the ME that is always going to be ME saw tweets and statuses and friends who needed just a little bit of help with what they were doing. I am still essential. Wonderful things are still happening every day.
There’s definitely more to this story, but the lesson today is: don’t bury your head in the sand. The story of the WhatsApp co-founder, Brian Acton (pictured below), is a reminder that we fall, we fail, we fix it, we finish it, we find ourselves where we belong. He was denied a job by Facebook, but guess what? That was just one part of the book. Facebook later bought his WhatsApp. Brian could have easily made that for them had he been hired initially, but that wasn’t what his book was supposed to look like.
I’m inspired, of course, and working hard on my next chapter. This book is way too good to put down.