What I Learned From Being Broken

Three years ago, they called me into the office.

The handshake was cold. The words were practiced.

I walked out with a box of my things,

my life compressed into cardboard,

and I thought that was the end.

I was right and wrong.

Because being fired taught me something

I didn't know I needed:

how to leave without burning it down.

How to take responsibility without shame.

How to walk out the door

and not spend a year

hating myself.

I learned it because I had to.

Because the alternative was drowning.

Today I quit a job with grace.

I gave two weeks' notice.

I wrote a careful email.

I trained my replacement.

I shook my manager's hand.

It wasn't cold.

And I realized:

I was using what I learned

when I was broken.

I was using the resilience

that came from the worst day.

I was using the knowledge

that people leave jobs.

That jobs leave people.

That both can be okay.

That you can fail

and still stand up.

That you can walk out

and not be destroyed.

Walking out today with my box,

I thought about walking out three years ago.

The difference wasn't the box.

It was me.

It was knowing that failure

was just information.

That endings

could be beginnings.

That the worst thing

that happened

taught me how to do

this thing right.