a letter to my unemployed self...

Dear Heather,

This all feels so strange, doesn't it? Surreal. Difficult to grasp. A shock, like a death in the family. After all of those years essentially...growing up under that roof...you sat in that chair longer than you've even known your husband...you spent more hours in that office than you spent with your family. You toiled, languished, persevered. Now this. After all of those hours spent burning that midnight oil assuming it would be appreciated, you're told, "we're restructuring. we're letting you go."

I'll bet you're going through the stages of grief. The denial, the anger, the numbness. I'll bet you'll have up days and down days. You'll have days of relief (maybe you can find a job where 40 hours means 40 hours, not 55 or 63). You'll have days of sadness. It's OK if your feelings are hurt. It's OK if you feel like you've been dumped. It's normal.

I picked this picture of you because you look determined. Chin up, smile on your face - ready to take it all on. Cling to that. Cling to your determination, your sense of self, your innate knowledge that you're a talented, valuable employee. You inspire respect and admiration for your character, your skills, your determination.

Above all else, don't sell yourself short. Don't let yourself down. Try your best not to be consumed by the fears of "what happens next" and "what do I do when the rent is due" and "what if no one wants to hire me..." Commit yourself to finding a place you love.

Take this odd, unexpected opportunity to finally follow your passion. Don't settle for another desk job that pays the bills. Don't take the first thing that comes along out of fear that nothing else will come along - do what you were so afraid to do for so long: start over.

Remember that eight-year-old girl that told strangers she would be "an author" when she grew up. Tap into that strength you felt when you tore open your scores on that AP exam and realized you were among the top 5% in the COUNTRY. Remember those writing conferences your teachers sent you to when you were young. Remember that fire, channel that vigor, refuse to bow to the little voices in your head telling you you're always a few dollars from homeless.

Rely on K - let him support you while you struggle to find a new place to call home. Be proud of the jobs you've held, they've brought you to where you are now. Don't be afraid of that pay cut - in the long run, you value professional satisfaction so much more than you value the dollar sign. Take pride, peace, and solace in knowing that you can go to bed each night having pursued what you love.

Don't back down. Don't sell yourself short. Don't be afraid to find out who you are. What you're made of. What you're capable of. Who loves you. Who supports you.

Remember this time as one of those dark periods you're all the stronger for having conquered. Dazzle them with your smile, your smarts, your vocabulary...and (let's be honest) your eyelashes. Work hard, let yourself play a little. You haven't played in years. You haven't slept in for years. You haven't let K pull the long hours in years.

It's your turn. Take heart. Take care of you.

Seize your day.