The Map Was Upside Down

Experience has taught me that a no is okay.

My father taught me that a no is okay.

I teach other people that a no is okay.

But hearing no about something you've envisioned, something you've manifested, something you've embodied, something you've shouted about and prayed about?

That shit stings.

And I think it's okay to say that.

Today, I heard no.

And almost immediately, Jeremiah came to mind:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

That scripture restores my peace because when I look at where my Source has brought me, I know that I am blessed.

Right now, I am sitting cross-legged on my back porch.

There is food in my refrigerator.

There is a roof over my head.

I have a loving husband. A loving cat. A full-time job. Health insurance. A 401(k). A working car. Good health.

I have everything that I need.

And still—

that no did not feel good.

Gratitude does not mean I have to pretend disappointment doesn't hurt.

I can know that I am blessed and still be sad.

I can trust God and still say, Damn. I really wanted that.

I know that the further away I get from this moment, the wider my point of view will become. One day, this no will probably make complete sense.

I don't think I'll regret it.

But I'm not there yet.

Right now, I'm changing routes.

I thought I was heading toward one place, and it turns out my map was upside down.

I'm going in the opposite direction.

But I'm still going somewhere.

And this isn't the first time I've had to learn that.

For so much of my life, there seemed to be an equation for everything.

Find a husband.

Build a life.

Have a baby.

A + B = C.

Except sometimes it doesn't.

My fertility journey has taught me that.

I can love deeply. Prepare intentionally. Pray faithfully. Visualize motherhood. Know, without question, that I would be a kick-ass mommy.

And still not have a child right now.

That doesn't make my life incomplete.

It doesn't make me less of a woman.

It doesn't take anything away from the person I am on this earth, the legacy I will leave, or the legacy I am already creating.

My spirit has always known how to mother.

And if the answer right now is no—or not yet—I have to trust that the same God I believe would prosper me through a yes is still prospering me through a no.

Career has its own equations too.

Be great at what you do.

Work hard.

Build a reputation.

Apply for the internal position that makes sense.

Interview.

Get the job.

Except sometimes you don't.

Today, I didn't.

And this one stung.

Because I genuinely thought I would kick ass at that job.

I thought I was a great candidate. I could see myself doing it. It made sense to me.

But it wasn't mine.

It belonged to someone else.

And that's okay.

What I can admit now is that the role wasn't even the greatest version of what I know I'm capable of.

It was a version of myself I was comfortable being.

And Lord knows, I would've stayed comfortable.

Maybe that's part of the no.

I don't know.

I'm not interested in assigning some profound meaning to something while I'm still sitting in the middle of it.

Maybe this isn't redirection yet.

Maybe today it's just rejection.

Maybe today I'm allowed to sit in the sadness of realizing that something I pictured for my future isn't going to happen the way I pictured it.

That's where I am.

Sitting in the unknown.

Of course, we're always sitting in the unknown.

We just don't always know it.

There's something different about being open and ready for change, asking for change, preparing yourself for change—

and then discovering that the change you were preparing for isn't the change that's coming.

That's powerful.

It's also terrifying.

But at this point in my life, I know I'm going to be okay.

I have to talk about it.

I have to write about it.

I have to tell the truth about how it feels.

And I also know the truth about who I am.

A no doesn't change that.

Not having children right now doesn't change that.

Not getting a position doesn't change that.

Someone else's decision does not get to become my definition.

So tonight, I don't know exactly what's next.

And strangely enough, there's something exciting about that.

Because if the answer had been yes, maybe the search would have ended.

I would've known where I was going.

Instead, I'm still out here.

Still looking.

Still curious.

Still opening LinkedIn and seeing what the world is asking for.

I actually find that fascinating.

Job postings are, in their own strange way, people calling out for help.

We need someone who can do this.

We need someone who understands that.

We have this problem.

Can somebody help us solve it?

And I get to look around.

I get to see what people need.

I get to consider where I could help.

And most importantly, I get to choose.

There's power in that.

So no, I didn't get the role I thought I wanted.

I don't know where I'm going yet.

I thought I did.

Apparently, my map was upside down.

But I'm still going somewhere.

And I believe that somewhere has room for more of me than the place I was trying to squeeze myself into.

More creativity.

More peace.

More freedom.

More purpose.

More money, why not?

More life.

I'm going to get the role that's right for me.

The one that checks boxes I already know about and probably a few I haven't even thought to ask for yet.

Until then, I'm going to let this no sting.

I'm going to shower.

I'm going to clear my head.

I'm going to sit on my porch and thank God for the life I already have.

And then I'm going to keep going.

Because I've learned something about myself everywhere I've been:

I don't just bloom where I'm planted.

I bust the pot.