Today I received information about a grad fair coming up. At this grad fair I can pick up my regalia (blue for once, I've only ever worn red or black!), pick up free stuff, and I suppose get some ideas on what's to come after graduation. I'm excited.
But also a bit sad.
I see in this same email that I get 8 free tickets to the event. And I realize all at once that this amount is too much and not enough.
I have friends all over the world. Friends I've met at previous jobs, or friends I made here in California or when I lived in New Jersey, who are now living far away due to moves or whatnot. All I can think is, if I could, I'd invite them all and I would need a lot more than 8 tickets.
And then I think of my extended family. There's so many of them, and in the past 8 years, we've learned to come together to celebrate each other. And I'd love if they could be there. But I only have 8 tickets.
And then I think of why we've come together over the past 8 years. The tragedy that started it all.
The same tragedy that started everything. All of this change.
In 2014, I was working for Spirit Halloween (corporate) in New Jersey. It was a struggle. It was a culture shock, it was isolating, and it made me realize that there is a type of ugly in the world that is sneaky, covert, and malicious. I was ostracized, I was yelled at in front of my colleagues, I was made to cry by my ex-boss, and a smear campaign was put into effect. My job was sabotaged at every turn. However, I am not a person who quits...or I wasn't. When things got hard, I got creative. I spoke up. I worked harder. I did what I had to do. But I didn't realize that if someone has already decided to discard you, nothing you do will redeem you in their eyes. It is better to walk away, because you don't need to redeem yourself. Your worth is not tied to someone else's acceptance!
I was going to walk away. I made plans to get another job, and had sent out resumes. I was looking at how I could move back to California. I was looking at other states and other companies. Spirit Halloween moved faster than I could, unfortunately.
I got the biggest kick in the pants when, in February of 2014, my aunt Olga was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. If you know anything about pancreatic cancer, you know that most times, once you discover it, it's too late. And it was too late. I flew out there to be with my aunt and family as she was dying. I had to fight to get clearance. When she died, I had to show my supervisor a photo of her coffin to prove that she had indeed died, so that my bereavement and emergency trip to California could be cleared. Then, they put me on a PIP anyway.
The cousins, together, shortly before my aunt (center) died. |
But I knew that when I showed my ex-boss that photo, that Spirit Halloween, and any company really, will never give two shits about me, no matter what they say. And the people who did care were thousands of miles away, and their lives were passing by without me there. My first nephew had been born. I missed that. I missed his first Christmas. First Halloween. I should have been there for him and for my sister, and I wasn't.
I vowed to never let a company get in between me and my family ever again.
This and a few other factors had me staring at a tough decision. Should I continue trying to fight for a place in the world of the Halloween industry when I had three examples of companies and people doing their best to crush me with toxic culture and what we now know as Quiet Firing? Or do I walk away and start over?
I chose to start over.
This was a hard decision. I had to fight every fiber in my being that told me that if I walked away I was a quitter, and a quitter was a failure, and who I was as a person was not worthy of anything. I was just not good enough. Period. On top of that, I lost all the progress I had made as an adult. I had to move in with my parents. My fate was placed in the hands of other people, and my autonomy was nearly stripped away in more than one occasion. My best friend at the time decided that she didn't like where I was heading, and she left. I lost my home, one of my cats, my car, my career, everything.
But I needed a career that wouldn't take me from the people I cared about. I made sure that I was going to be there when my second nephew was born. I was going to be there for every birthday and Christmas that I possibly could (the pandemic and a bout of strep interrupted that). I almost quit a job because that job wanted me to fly out to China the week my second nephew was born.
I learned to say no in between 2014 and now. I learned to put power behind it.
No is a complete sentence.
When I graduated with my associates, I did walk, because I needed to create a reminder to myself that yes, I fought back and I got to a better place in life, and I did not let the ex-friends, ex-jobs, and tragedies weigh me down. And if I could do that, I could go further.
During this time in school, my only living grandparents died. My cousin died. My sister's mother-in-law and her mother died of covid. My uncle Gilbert died of cancer.
I am about to graduate, and my aunt Olga's sister, Elena, died last year, on October 11, 2021, from pulmonary fibrosis. I dropped my classes during that time because I just couldn't deal. Otherwise, I would have graduated already. But I saw I couldn't handle it, and gave myself a break. Old Me would have forced myself to do it. I am not that person anymore.
I say 8 tickets seems like too much because one aunt's death spurred this huge change in my life. The other aunt loved to hear me talk about what I was learning (she listened to everything I had to say, even when I was depressed, and not once told me I wasn't allowed to feel how I felt...she just saw me as human and I will never forget that). And neither of them are going to be there.
My aunt Olga at my parent's wedding in 1981. |
My aunt Elena and I, 1982-1983-ish. |