Want to hear something embarrassing...

...or is this over sharing?

Since I'm a slit-your-wrist-and-bleed writer, I will give you an embarrassing update.

I got fired.

At 48 years old, I got an email saying that because of corporate restructuring, my services were no longer needed.

What's embarrassing about this is that I wrote in my newsletter last week that I got a new job writing about reality television and went on and on about it being part of my self-care.

Blah, blah, blah.

And I was in an unceremonious manner, without warning, fired from that self-care.

It makes me wonder why I even bother selling writing to others. It means I don't own the audience. Maybe it expands my audience, but I doubt I brought them to my newsletter, which I do own.

My quality of writing doesn't change just because I'm fired. Maybe my writing might be somewhat different since their style guide constrained me. Perhaps I can go back to writing about more disparate and personal topics. Maybe this is the opening up of space for other writing opportunities.

But it doesn't make it less embarrassing.

I haven't been fired like this for years. Usually, a contract ends. Or I see it's not a match and gracefully bow out. It's usually a mutual decision based on the needs no longer aligning anymore, with no hard feelings. My husband says it's nothing personal, that it's probably corporate HR making the decision, and that editors probably didn't know to warn me. (From my last conversation with them, I could see that being true.)

I guess I forgot how cold and cruel corporate America is. At least it's not my husband's job (while he does have tenure and a pension) that we financially rely on.

But it wasn't the money. It was the sense of validation that comes from being paid to write regularly and feeling like I had more worth than just being a caregiver (mother, wife, etc.)

There's something utterly crazy about continually putting yourself out there and willingly subjecting yourself to rejection.

Cue an emotionally inspiring song to pep me back up...

Best,

Melissa