I got a call from the recruiter, she put my mind at ease. She asked if I would be good to start on the 18th. Its currently the 6th, so less than two weeks. I say yes. The problem is I can’t fathom staying engaged in my current job, I feel as though I’m saying my goodbyes. Without anyone knowing. I’ve already left, already mourned. Already contemplated what I would miss, already asked myself over and over if I was making the right decision.
The truth is I’m not happy, and I haven’t been for a very long time. In my position that is. I have lied to myself and told myself it’s alright. I’ve done what I needed to do to get by. But the most recent changes have had me so disengaged it made me realize it was time for me to leave completely. It was funny because I was so enraged by two things that happened, back to back, and that fueled me. I searched for about 3 full days. The perfect role found me. I thought there was no way the pay could compare and somehow it did. The interviews were set up with ease, and somewhere inside of me I just knew this was it. I knew this was the one. I’ve felt this way before, I’ve always known when something was going to work out, or when it wasn’t. When my gut was leading and I was following.
So now I sit here, after a morning full of meetings, and I think how this is likely the last time I’ll speak to my employees. That before the end of the day I’ll more than likely have my offer letter in hand. How I’ll likely spend time this afternoon writing up my resignation. Why does it feel like a death? I suppose because it’s been almost 15 years. One of my longest relationships. We’ve been through so much, held so many positions. There has been so much time spent where I’ve felt unappreciated. I think about the little things I’m losing that could get me to stay. The fact that I won’t get my gift on my 15 year anniversary. How my car insurance is integrated with my pay to make it easy. How it feels so overwhelming to leave.
But then I remember all the abusive relationships I’ve left before. And I pull from those times, how I handled my escape. I did it quietly. Got everything in order. Made sure I had what I needed, waited for the perfect time to tell them to get out. I silently mourned the loss while they were still in the house. And I think of how since I made my escape from them I never looked back. How free I felt. Like a weight lifted. And I wonder if that’s how I’ll feel in the days to come once I can give my notice.
The Girl Without A Face 