When you write a blog post about how you got fired, then get tons of supportive and kind comments from friends, colleagues, former colleagues and family members, it will feel super cathartic. You’ll feel a bit euphoric for a while. You might even say to yourself: “Man! I’m psyched I got fired!” You might get some employment offers—you did not see that coming.
And then one day you’ll walk into a press-only area at a huge music festival in your city, whereupon a former colleague will exclaim: “How’d you get in?” Other members of the press will look askance (You’ll find out later she sincerely meant no malice. She can’t help it if getting canned has made you a crazy-sensitive person.).
Then there’s that blog post about your age. After you write that one, you’ll feel super liberated. You’re owning who you are! All is right in the world because of honesty. Then you’ll be at that same music festival, and the young woman in standing in front of you during Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers will turn around to face you. She will look into your eyes. You’ll stare back, mildly frightened, wondering what’s about to happen. She’ll say: “Oh my god.”
Then she’ll lean over to whisper in your ear the following: “Would it be totally rude if I asked you how old you are?” Your jaw will drop to the trampled festival grass. She will then ramble because she’s not even close to a state that resembles sober (which later on makes you feel a little bit better): “I love how much you love turquoise! You have your turquoise earrings and your scarf and your Otterbox (it suddenly occurs to you that all these things are indeed of a turquoise hue) and your camera around your neck and you just have this aura of wisdom about you wow.” And you will feel 100 years old.
I’m just saying. Just because you came out and said some things on your blog, and that made you feel good, it doesn’t mean those things can no longer transform you into a self-conscious mess. You’re still fired; you’re still getting old.
BUT. Then you might go to an event where everyone knows you and is cool and nice. And after that maybe you’ll get your hair done, and it will look pretty great, if you do say so yourself. Perhaps your 2-year-old daughter will point to Miranda Kerr in a magazine and say, “Mommy!” and you’ll just go ahead and allow that to be a compliment. Maybe you’ll get your nails done with polish that changes color depending on the temperature. Why not? Why don’t you get a massage while you’re at it? And do a little shopping. There, don’t you feel better?
Participate in your own retail therapy below: