Tired of the expectations…
What does that shit really mean anyway?
I’m LaShonda and I was a blogger on the come up in Kansas City. I was invited to a ton of events, had blogger opportunities left and right, and made money. But somehow along the way, I got tired of the expectations. My last official post was in February of this year. It was a post that I was supposed to write in October in 2016, I totally forgot that I did not write it. Note to my future self: Expectations and misallocated time do not mix.
Even with what I thought was a “little fame” my life still felt unfulfilled. As a matter of fact, I was dying on the inside. I felt defeated as my self-esteemed was diminished. I hid my true feelings, so to everyone on the outside I was full of smiles. But everyday tears were shed and prayers went up, I believe a lot of those feelings of self-worthlessness was stemmed from my job and an unhealthy life balance.
My old job was so toxic that I would equate it to prison. They would literally mind-fuck you into thinking you were worthless and I believed the lies. I tried to hide my feelings, but after two years of going through this, I decided enough was enough. I begin applying for jobs in the field I’ve craved for years. I went on a few interviews but none of them felt right.
Then it happened….
It was two weeks before my birthday and I applied for a job, but after two interviews I did not receive an answer. Back to square one, I was hurt… but begin praying and fasting. All the while thinking, Lord something has to give. It got to the point where I was very vocal on my job, which is a trait completely out of my character. Fast forward a week and I received a call from a recruiter for a position that I initially never wanted. Yet, I’ve never turned down an opportunity to interview so I reluctantly went into the building.
To my surprise, it was love at first sight. I interviewed with my future manager and we just connected. I left with a feeling of expectancy, still being turned down from several jobs. I tried not to get my hopes up. Two days later… I got the flu. I was bedridden for at least four days, but a bih looked great as I was 8 pounds lighter. By this time, it was a week and I haven’t heard from the job. So I told my husband I was going to call.
Later that evening, I become preoccupied and told myself to call in the morning. I went for a walk and had a real talk with Jesus. I walked into my bedroom to find a missed call from the recruiter, I texted back that I would give her a call in the morning. She asked for me to call her back, I had prepared myself for whatever the outcome was, but inside I was prepared to give a heartfelt “thank you”. The recruiter asked me, “how was your day?” I replied, “great and you”.
Soon after she muttered those that four words I would never forget – You got the job! I was so prepared to give my concession speech. I immediately burst into tears, I’m talking about Color Purple – Oprah Winfrey ugly cry ya’ll. I literally cried for a strong two minutes, so much so that the recruiter begins to cry as well. I recall her asking me how are you feeling? I replied I’m just grateful.
Soon, I decided my blog was ruling my life. I was blogger extraordinaire. But I was an absentee mom and wife, a horrible ass friend, and I worked all the time. I was determined to get my life back. I needed to let some things go. So I did, I let go of a part-time job that I absolutely loved. After a hard few months, I let the blog go as well.
With only one job to focus on, I had more time to spend with my family and friends. I had the opportunity to be completely present in the moment. My expectations of who I thought I needed to be dissipated. Whose life was I actually living anyway?
The moment I decided that I needed to get my life back was…
The moment I was officially out of fucks to give.
The moment I lived for me.
The moment I stepped back into the role of wife and mom.
The moment I knew it was okay for me to be completely vulnerable.
The moment I wept and knew I did not have to carry this burden called life.
The moment I actually gave it to God without feeling like I needed to help him.
All in all, it was the moment I was set free.