New Fresh Groove

On the 23rd of February my mother died. Her name was Sara. Although she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and slipped further into dimensia every day, this was a surprise.

She was a “country chic hoarder” and held onto codependency until the very end. I’m still allowing myself space, but truthfully I lost my mother decades ago. Thanks to therapy, I learned to grieve that loss well before her physical body failed. I’m doing fine.

Only two days later, I had my first interview with NinjaOne. Less than a month later we got a special gift for my wife’s birthday: a job offer. With the recruiter on the phone and my family around me, I wept.

When I started on April 6th as a Senior SRE it felt like a watershed moment. Not just because I got a job after nine months. I emerged from something. It has been a metamorphosis, I’m not quite sure of the shape of it. These two events coupled together have spilled into a new thing, molten and newly forming.

My albatross was neverending guilt. I lived my life for more than 50 years always believing that I was doing something wrong. I believed others could read my thoughts when I battled intrusive voices.

Surviving with Complex PTSD, learning to recognize my Inner Critic in all its voices has led me to understand it more deeply. The loud voices shoved me into masks and propped up my visage. My professional work used to be especially problematic because my Inner Critic did all the driving. Social anxiety defined me.

Now, those voices have become whispers. Remnants of tracing paper. Wisps of bright sparks in the corners of my vision, quickly extinguished without any power. I surprise myself onboarding at work because the Inner Critic isn’t showing up. There are some moments where I sense something in my shadow, but something more real keeps it imprisoned there.

I told a circle of friends that this trial has brought me to a place where I understand Authenticity more than ever before. Keeping my agency and allowing myself to simply be myself: not front, not mask, not envious, not believing I’m always wrong, not punishing myself for making mistakes, not losing confidence in the face of someone else’s expertise.

I couldn’t be more excited to be me. I am recognizing parts of me that feel childish, that haven’t had the chance to see the world yet. Parts of my personality are coming out that were being shoved down and silenced for so very long that I barely recognize it’s me.

I can’t help but feel reborn. From a undifferentiated glop in a cocoon of hardship to fresh wings reaching for new heights.

I am a new fresh groove.