The last 72 hours have been a bit of a roller coaster for me. I went to a second interview on Monday afternoon with a job I was really excited to possibly take, received a written offer for a salary higher than I had requested, and then, not five minutes before I was planning on talking to the boss about my resignation, I received an email stating they must rescind the offer due to “a business scenario that prevents them from hiring for a few months.” They assured me they were very interested in hiring me and when the time came, would like to call me if I was available.
I was gut punched. I had all this hope and as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Not just gone, ripped away from me.
“Don’t take it personally,” friends said.
I do take it personally though. I take everything personally, I just do a really great job of hiding it.
I was ready to make a leap I’ve only talked about making for years. The net was there. The safety gear was left behind. Then it went up in flames, the brakes slammed, and I felt like I skidded right to the edge of the cliff.
I know this is dramatic sounding. It’s dramatic feeling.
It’s disappointing and I’m trying really hard not to be disappointed in myself for not seeing things coming. I’m always so good at using my intuition to guide my decisions and caution me when something might go wrong. I missed it almost completely in this instance.
That made me uncomfortable. It made me question myself, my abilities, my powers of observation.
I surrendered completely to the commitment of change. I was vulnerable and I wound up feeling foolish for being excited without caution. The little voice in my head I battle with constantly repeats “I told you so, I told you this would happen, you tried to drown me out, but here I am. I told you not to get too excited about anything; it always ends in disappointment.”
Normally, this voice would paralyze me. I wouldn’t be able to even think about putting myself back out there, venturing into places unknown, facing the reality that there will be disappointment over and over and over again, allowing myself to be vulnerable enough to feel all of that disappointment and frustration and discomfort.
But I can. I can feel all of those feelings and not be crippled by them. I can feel what they are actually supposed to feel like. It’s scary, but exhilarating in that way that reminds you you’re alive and capable and strong.