April 19, 2012
It is the night before I resign from my first career. My future, however, holds bright new things: great and noble learning opportunities.
Why, then, tonight, am I so frightened? Why is my body trembling with the thought of saying those words tomorrow? “It is with a heavy heart that I announce my resignation from this career.”
It is because I face a man who risked a lot to get me here, a man who put his neck out for me because he believed in my skill, and in my determination. And tomorrow, I will tell him that he was wrong.
It is the night before I resign from my first career. My future, however, holds bright new things: great and noble learning opportunities.
Why, then, tonight, am I so frightened? Why is my body trembling with the thought of saying those words tomorrow? “It is with a heavy heart that I announce my resignation from this career.”
It is because I face a man who risked a lot to get me here, a man who put his neck out for me because he believed in my skill, and in my determination. And tomorrow, I will tell him that he was wrong.
I will tell him that I am weak, that I have been scared and
hurting, and that the smiling face he saw for eight months has been a lie.
Why, though? Why am I scared? Am I scared of his reaction? Certainly. Am I scared of the future? Of course. I think most of all, that I am scared to admit that I was weaker than his estimate of me. I am scared to admit that, in this endeavor, I failed. So many times, I have announced my successes, and boldly proclaimed that I could succeed however I wished. But here, tonight, I sit naked in my bed with my computer in front of me, trembling.
Why, though? Why am I scared? Am I scared of his reaction? Certainly. Am I scared of the future? Of course. I think most of all, that I am scared to admit that I was weaker than his estimate of me. I am scared to admit that, in this endeavor, I failed. So many times, I have announced my successes, and boldly proclaimed that I could succeed however I wished. But here, tonight, I sit naked in my bed with my computer in front of me, trembling.
I glance at the red square numbers on the table next to
me. 10:38. I count down the hours until I say
those words: “It is with a heavy
heart…” Probably close to twelve hours.
Maybe less. Two of those
hours I will spend driving, waiting desperately for the sun to rise, my body
crouched over the steering wheel, holding on to life as I drive toward this
realization, the revelation to the world that I was weak.
I think also of my fiancé, and my friends who look forward
to my return. I think ahead four
months and I can visualize the smile on my face as I sit with friends and make
merry. This smile has not crossed
my lips in months except for rare exceptions to the status quo: vacation
weekends, visits from my distant fiancé.
In a short time, this smile will be the norm, and the trembling and the
crying and the anger will be my rare states of being.
I think ahead two weeks. I am at the office, turning in a progress report on a task that will have to be completed after I’ve left. I think of the looks I’ll receive from my coworkers. I think of the rare smiles and congratulations I might greet with relief. I think of the possibilities that my resignation might spark an exodus. The council could be left in shambles, and how will I have contributed? The catastrophe’s catalyst.
But if I think of myself, only myself, I can be free. I will be free of the pain, and the fear, and the depression, and I will have a wealth of knowledge to bring with me as I travel forward. I was weak here, but I might be stronger in the next arena. And the next, and the next, and the next…
I think ahead two weeks. I am at the office, turning in a progress report on a task that will have to be completed after I’ve left. I think of the looks I’ll receive from my coworkers. I think of the rare smiles and congratulations I might greet with relief. I think of the possibilities that my resignation might spark an exodus. The council could be left in shambles, and how will I have contributed? The catastrophe’s catalyst.
But if I think of myself, only myself, I can be free. I will be free of the pain, and the fear, and the depression, and I will have a wealth of knowledge to bring with me as I travel forward. I was weak here, but I might be stronger in the next arena. And the next, and the next, and the next…
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