Rising
My Heart Was Pounding. I Said It Anyway.
“The sky was clear. I drove home in the sun.”
I was the one who couldn't say no. I cared too much about what people thought, took on more and more in silence, and turned everything over in my head until it wore me down. At the start of this year, I asked for what I felt I had earned. The answer was no.
So I decided to leave. It took me months to get there — the times were uncertain, and everyone around me said the same thing: you're past thirty, married, a mother. Don't.
I chose to say it face to face. Before the words came out, my heart was pounding. I was so nervous. I said it anyway.
I spent my last weeks handing over every piece of my work, properly. The conversations that followed weren't easy. But when the first morning came that I didn't have to go in, what I felt wasn't loss. It was release.
On my last day, I walked out carrying a small bag of my own things. The sky was clear. I drove home in the sun.
I don't know if the road ahead will be easy. But my peace matters more to me than my paycheck, and I'm done being the one who gives quietly and is quietly overlooked. I'm not rushing into the next thing — I want to adjust, refine, and then move. There is no perfect arrangement, I've decided. Only the better choices we make for ourselves.
My heart was still racing when I said it. But in that second, I was already on my way up.
— Rising
— I.S.
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