At the end of 2016, I made an abrupt yet deliberate decision to deactivate my facebook account. I had decided that I’d had enough of the way things were. I hated my job and, though I was genuinely happy for my friends, I was becoming more and more miserable seeing everyone’s seemingly perfect lives in comparison to my frustratingly stagnant situation. I was making a really good amount of money, but money has never been the key to happiness for me and last year REALLY proved that to me. I just needed some space to figure a bunch of things out. Unpack and unwind. A break from everything.
I’ll do another post walking through some thoughts/updates about mental, emotional, and spiritual health. But for now, this:
I made a pact with myself.
I deactivated my account and said I would reactivate it once I started getting my life together. I wanted to start making the positive changes that I needed to see in my life. I wanted to do things my way. I wanted to go back to being a flight attendant. I said to myself, “I’ll give myself until June to earn my wings back with a new airline and start doing what I love again. THEN I’ll turn FB back on. June or bust”. That was one of the many “new year, new me” goals I set for myself. I literally never set those kinds of goals.
So, I started the application process with like a dozen different airlines. Determined. And received *TBNT emails left and right. I allowed myself to be down for maybe a day whenever I got a rejection letter, and then I would pick myself up and move on to the next. Scheduling my work days around random possible *f2f interviews and open house group interviews. Constant TBNTs. Constant dejection and starting over again and again and again. Wondering what I was doing wrong. Making changes here and there based on suggestions that friends and family gave me, mostly flight attendant friends.
I finally went into an interview with unapologetic confidence. I was sick of opening TBNT emails. I didn’t retwist my locs. I didn’t try to hide them, I smoothed down my edges and pulled my locs up into a neat, coiled updo. I didn’t wear contacts, I wore my favorite, nerdy, black glasses. I didn’t wear nude lip balm, I let my lips be on full display with a jaw-dropping, bright, American red lipstick. I wasn’t fake. I genuinely laughed and made new friends. I asked real questions. I used colloquial slang and terms of endearment that identified me as the bold, southern woman I am (y’all, hon, sweetie, *yass, etc lol). I was myself.
One morning before work, I received a phone call from the recruiter. No TBNT this time. She was giving me a *CJO. I got the job. They flew me out for training in May. I graduated just before June.
Goals met. Just barely. But still.
Until next time!