Leaving a Different Kind of Family

This one is going to be hard to write. I am still bitter and hurt about what happened this past February. I left my job in February. This job was quite literally my entire life for 7 and a half years. It identified who I was. My new coworker and I had a discussion about this and she shared some advice that she had gotten recently, "don't let one place define your identity." I can see this now, when your community knows you as "that place" people experience a shock to their system when they talk to you and you are no longer associated with "that place." Well then, who are you?

I am free now to be the things I value. Not to say I didn't value the work I did. I very much do and that will stay with me for all of my life. But now, I can be a real person, with opinions and interests, outside of "that place." I am more than just one thing, I am made up of different people, different interests, passions, and perspectives. I am an artist, a writer, a baker, a curator, a community member, a jewelry maker, a photographer, and a family member - a daughter, a sister, a friend.

The hardest part about leaving "that place," was leaving my family of friends. They are not gone forever, but there is a huge shift from seeing people 5-7 days a week for 7 years, to one or two times a month. We talk often of course, but they made the work I did worthwhile. They are the people that changed me, made me better, and cared for me through the tough times. We will always have our bond and though I am free now, I am not free from them, nor will I ever be.