If I have heard it once, I have heard it a thousands times yesterday as people tried to console me over the loss of my job writing The Home of the Week…..when one door closes, another one opens. I believe that. I believe that God has a plan and He just hasn’t quite laid it out for me to process.
I am grieving. For ten years, I cultivated that column. I created the social media platform and made it more reachable for the average homeowner. It told the story of how these individuals made a house a home. I made lifelong friends, saw beautiful homes, worked with the best designers on the planet, and it gave me an opportunity to truly mold my craft. It is crazy how it just disappears after a ten minute conversation with my boss. No wiggle room. No negotiation. Just the reality that someone else – in-house- will take over the column. I am simply a casualty.
When I announced it on Facebook yesterday, I was completely overwhelmed by the messages of support. It was like a virtual hug. There were friends that allowed me to simply cry on the phone without trying to fix me. Supportive text messages including one of my close friends saying, “Whose throat do I need to slit?” which made me laugh. (BTW….she was kidding….maybe….no she was.) My tribe showed up.
Being a freelancer is a lonely existence. The lifeline extends to your editor, so after my conversation with her, there was silence. No coworkers commiserating with me. No fanfare. Just me. So, here I sit in my grief. I don’t need to be fixed, I just need time. Time to process. To truly experience life, you must put yourself out there to be vulnerable. I have no regrets. My best self was always at the forefront. Doors are already opening, I am just taking a little time before I walk through them.