Since starting this new job, I’ve been cautious. Which is not my nature. This from the girl who, starting out at the sport of figure skating, my mantra was, “Just throw yourself up in the air and see what happens.” Hey, sometimes it worked! Other times I had some cool looking bruises to show off.

But after the deep burn from my last job, I will do anything in my power to avoid feeling those feelings again. The devastation. The betrayal. The brokenness.

While I’ve come to terms with the fact that there was absolutely nothing I could have done differently as far as my job performance is concerned, to prevent the ending, I could have made some changes personally.

Right now I have been at this job for 2 weeks and I have to admit I kind of feel like an imposter. Or Clark Kent.

The reason? No one knows I’m a mom.

Obviously I’m not ashamed – it’s the thing my life I am undeniably most proud of. The thing that makes me happier than anything else. But I had a really bad ending at my last job. Salt was thrown on my wounds when I was told that my evil boss had the balls to tell someone she missed hearing me talk about Riley. That made a light bulb go off.

Work is work. Family is family. I will bring in pictures of my boy, my husband and my pup to decorate my office. I will tell people about them if they ask. But I will never again share the funny anecdotes at a meeting.

They won’t hear that Riley can now moonwalk on command. That he points to his butt and says, “poo poo!” (Ok, I wouldn’t have shared that anyway). That he wakes up in the morning excitedly yelling, “Dis dis dee!” (Christmas tree! Obviously).

Because those stories are mine. And I’m not so good at sharing anymore.


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