And Open Letter To The Church

 Dear church leadership,

I guess I should start with a "thank you".  The email we received from church leadership to let us know that one of the church pastors has been terminated "effective immediately", was certainly the most transparent church communique I have received in quite some time, or, ever.

I can only imagine how difficult it must be for a senior pastor of a church to put together an email explaining to his congregation that a longtime member of the pastoral staff has been fired.  I'm sure there are HR issues to consider, etc, etc.  

However.  What I will not appreciate is the half hearted apology from the disgraced pastor and his wife that was attached to the church email.  The message spanned an entire page, and yet it said almost nothing.  At this point, all I can ascertain is that they are only sorry that they were caught.  

Here's my response:

Dear disgraced worship leader and spouse,

For eight years you have proudly stood in front of the congregation each week as the worship leaders.  I'll admit, the fact that you are Liberty graduates already set my teeth on edge.  I know your type.  I know the false humility that seems to ooze from anyone who came up through the LU worship programming.  I spent enough years watching the adulation that was poured over The Sounds of Liberty (hold on, ok, I'm ok, thought I was going to be sick typing that out) to be able to sniff out a protege at any distance.  

Leafing through your social media posts, remembering your feigned stance as the perfect model of a worship leader during what often felt like an (insert worship leader's name) concert, recalling the way you treated my daughter when she tried to be on the worship team ... yep.  I'm going to need a little bit more than that half hearted apology message.

You apologize.  For what?  If you want to hold a position as a leader in a well known local church, you have, ostensibly, accepted that you are living in the public eye.  You've been willing to accept the lack of privacy when it comes to the benefits of being a church leader.  Now, it's time to face the music when you've done something egregious enough to warrant an emergency session meeting and subsequent firing.  

So, yeah, I'll be ready to forgive you, as Christ has instructed me to do, but it would be great to see a little bit of honesty from you as to WHAT we are forgiving you for.  Oh, and a little bit of humility rather than your continued Facebook posts aimed at managing your image. 

Sincerely,

Every former church member who has left the church because we are sick of church leadership hiding behind the curtain and refusing to face honest rebuke when your hypocrisy comes to light.

Throwing The Baby Out With The Bathwater

 "I choose to believe, because I WANT to believe, and that is enough of a reason". 

I won't sugar coat this.  My faith has been on an absolute roller coaster the last few years.  Ever since Covid, I have really struggled with reconciling a belief system that is supposed to be anchored in love with the actions and attitudes that I saw from its followers -  who seem to be mostly motivated by "their rights, their money, their freedoms".  

I watched the pastor of our church be pushed out, partly, because of his cautious approach to large group meetings and general willingness to follow government guidelines during those challenging months.  I saw messages about how church volunteers refused to wear masks while serving in the building because it offended their sense of freedom.  I watched hateful speech and actions come from the people who I most trusted to be a group of love, non judgement and acceptance.  

So, we stopped going to church.  At first, we did church online through sources that were modeling a Christ like response to the pandemic.  But then, I continue to disengage.  As I would explain to my friends "I still love Jesus, but I really don't like his followers right now".  Listen, I'm not saying that everything that the government did in response to Covid was the right thing, but what I am saying is that it was a scary time and I think that the vast majority of people who were following regulations (and creating regulations) were doing the very best they could with the information they had.  As I stated in my last post, I know I don't always have it all right.  I know I don't ever have it all right.  But I want to be around people who say "I probably don't have it all right but I'm doing my best out of love" rather than those who say "Don't Tread On Me".

Anyway, I really, really struggled with my faith, to say the least.  And then I became friends with someone who viewed the faith community as a kind of joke.  I will readily admit that I let this person influence me far more than I should have.  They were so flippant and dismissive of anyone and anything in the faith community that I felt myself drift even further away from Jesus.

Then, as always happens (and I am so grateful) Jesus called me back in a big way.  It was the confluence of a natural disaster where my only hope was to call out to God for safety and protection (and the only thing I WANTED to do) along with that relationship imploding** because I made a decision* that the other person disagreed with along with me finally recognizing that my heart longing for the quiet and peace that can only come when I am resting in God.  

Listen, do I know exactly where I want to land in all of this? No.  I don't.  But for right now I know that I am grateful for the comfort of Belinda's copy of Jesus Calling on a chilly morning, time spent in silence in meditation where my soul and mind are soothed in His presence, and conversations with Ryan about our path forward in all of this. 

*it was not a good decision, but MY decision nonetheless and one that had nothing to do with this other person 

**queue me being super grateful as I realized that this person only wanted to be in relationship with me when they could control me (shoutout to my therapist for that realization)

Another apology? Maybe. Or maybe just sharing a moment of self realization.

Sometimes we receive a good, swift kick in the pants that we didn't even know we needed.

I received such a kick recently.  It's never fun to look in the mirror and see something ugly reflected back at you, but I would rather see it and have the opportunity to redirect, than walk around with the metaphorical piece of spinach in my teeth that no one is telling me about.

Last night I was having a therapeutic event on my Peloton bike, exorcising (or exercising, haha) the demons from an incredibly stressful weekend, when I had a lightbulb moment.  So, I did what I usually do, and I texted Ryan for his input (nevermind that he was 10 feet away in the living room, I had a good sweat going, and I am nothing if not efficient). 

Me: Do you think I've become more judgmental over the last few months?

Ryan: Yes

Me: Sitting on a throne of self-righteousness seems like an awfully lonely place to be.

Ryan:  Yes.  There has been too much "me" in the conversation. 

Me: Yes

Later, after my workout was complete and I was talking to Ryan (you know, like a normal person) when he reminded me of a quote that is repeated fairly regularly around here:

"The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people are so full of doubts." 

- Bertrand Russell

While I am proud of the growth I have experienced in my mindset in recent years, and the willingness I have demonstrated to examine previously held beliefs and determine what was worth keeping and what needed to be discarded, I am not proud of the judgement that I have let accompany my growth.  

I'm don't like that I let myself become fanatical about my beliefs, to the point that I didn't have enough uncertainty in my convictions.  I need only to step back and examine the people in my life who may make different decisions from me to be reminded to check myself before I wreck myself.  People who regularly demonstrate love, thoughtfulness and genuine care for those in their circle.  People who love me, even when I don't deserve it.  People who simply have a different decision making structure from mine, that they are using to guide and inform their votes and their faith.

I am able to sleep well at night knowing that the beliefs I hold are based on genuine love and acceptance of as many people as possible.  But I cannot sleep well at night if I assume that all those who think differently are, therefore, filled with hate or prejudice.

So, I'm going to be working on this.  Like I said, it isn't fun, but in the end, I'm grateful that I serve a God who loves me enough to serve gentle correction when needed.   The events of the last few days haven't been fun or easy, but I am grateful for the new perspective I have gained and for the people that God has brought into my life that I can trust and rely on in the good times and in the bad.  

An Apology

 I don't know what to title this blog.  It's been swirling in around in my head for SO long and now that I'm attempting to actually sit down to put my thoughts into words - I feel a little paralyzed.  But, for the sake of finally getting it out, I will probably proceed with word vomit, hit the publish button, and then cringe with embarrassment tomorrow at my nonsensical statements and/or typos.

In my companion post to this one, I shared some confessions.  Most were light hearted, or funny, except for the last one.  The one where I admitted that in 2016, I voted for Donald Trump.  I explained my reasoning there and I won't go into it again (if you didn't read it, it's not a defense of my choice - I would not try to do that).  In this post I want to apologize to those that my decision hurt.

I'm sorry.

To every woman who has ever been sexually harassed, abused, threatened or attacked, please forgive me.  My vote for Trump must feel like a slap in the face.  The very nature of this violation is to show a woman that she is just a means to an end, that she is worth less than the desires of her attacker- and we should all be able to agree that the price for justice against an attacker that a woman must pay is a price that is too great.  She will be scrutinized to the smallest detail.  "What was she wearing?  Did she give mixed signals? Was she being a tease?  Did she want it?".  I can only imagine how terrible that might be.  But to go through all of that, and then have a country show you that they'll vote for a known sexual predator anyway?  Heartbreak.  I'm sorry.

To my Jewish friends, please forgive me.  The resurgence of anti-semitism in this country since Trump's election in 2016 is disheartening, to say the least. 

To my LGBTQ+ friends, please forgive me.  One of my dear childhood friends, who is now happily married to her wife, was bereft when Trump was elected.  I remember feeling badly that she was so upset, but not fully appreciating why,  Now I get it.  I'm sorry.

To my daughters, please forgive me.  I didn't appreciate the attack on women's rights and privacy that would ensue when the Supreme Court's balance of power shifted.  I'm trying to transition my girls over to a European app to track their cycles so that the government isn't watching their personal health data.   I've spent most of my life being staunchly pro-life.  And while I still dislike the idea of abortion, I realize that I have the freedom to make that choice for myself.  And I think all women should have the same right.  But even more importantly, the lies that have been fed about Plan B (I remember the horror when it came out at the idea of "killing babies with a pill"), which is designed to end a pregnancy before it has a chance to start.  I do want my daughters, my nieces, my friends, my daughters' friends, to have that choice.  I want to impoverished woman who is barely making ends meet to have that choice, I want the woman who was raped to have that choice.  I want to woman who will die without an abortion to have that choice. So, to my daughters, and all women, I'm sorry. 

To this country's minorities and immigrants, please forgive me.  When I think of the second greatest commandment that Jesus gave in the Bible, which was, "to love your neighbor as thyself", I know that the attitudes and policies from the Trump agenda show a great deal of hate, and very little love.  I'm sorry.

If you've read this far, you're probably shaking your head that I have turned into a Democrat.  I, in fact, have not.  I'll write more about that in another post.  But, for now, to all of those who are still here - I'm sorry. 

Confessions

Back when I was 10 or 11 years old, I went through what we will call "summer of contrition".  I don't know if it was actually summer, but what I do know, is that I was suddenly consumed with guilt about every bad thing I had ever done - specifically those acts that I hadn't been caught and punished for.  My mom remembers it as the longest summer of her life.  There she would be, trying to relax after a long day, when I would creep into her room with a trembling voice and tears in my eyes and say "Mom?  I need to tell you something".  What would come next was a sobbing, often hysterical, confession of the most insignificant transgression you can imagine.  She came to fear the sound of my footsteps outside her door as I sought absolution for my sins.  As with most childhood phases, this one passed, but we still laugh about it to this day.  Well, we laugh and wince at the same time.

Today, I come to you with a flashback to summer of 1990.  There are some things I would like to get off my chest.  I hope, in advance, you can forgive me.

1 - I would estimate that I've actually watched less then 25% of the movies that most would say defined our generation.  Sure, I've seen bits and pieces of most, but the investment of time and attention is beyond what I can give.  We're talking Pretty Woman,  The Heathers,  Airplane!, Caddy Shack, Say Anything ... and that's just from a quick Google search.   I didn't even see The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles until fairly recently.  Sometimes I'll admit I have no clue what someone is talking about in reference to a movie, but if it's just TOO embarrassing, I've been known to fake it on occasion. Oh, come on! Even though I haven't seen the whole movie, I still know the famous scene from When Harry Met Sally. 

2- Let's talk bourbon.  I'm not an expert, but I enjoy my bourbon with just a couple of ice cubes to enhance the flavor and I have some definite preferences between brands.  Over the years I've learned a lot about appreciating this delicious spirit. Which brings me back to my first bourbon experience.  Some of our friends brought a bottle of Jefferson Ocean to our house for a party.  This might not make an impression, but Jefferson Ocean is considered to be a very nice bottle of bourbon and, y'all.... I mixed that nice bourbon with ginger ale!!!  Every time I think about the sacrilege of this, I cringe.

3 - This next one is a big one.  My name is Lacey and I like to play pickleball.  For years I have been firmly anti-pickleball.  Not because there is anything wrong with the sport, but because my parents LOVE pickleball, and the more they insisted that I would love it, the more resistant I was to trying it.  I have quite the stubborn streak in me when someone tells me what to do, and dangitall if this wasn't a hill I was willing to die on.  Alas, peer pressure (or FOMO?) won out and when some of my good friends started to play all of the time, I couldn't resist.   Whatever, it's fun, blah, blah, blah.  But I swear, if I start wearing pickleball themed clothes or accessories - take me out back and shoot me.

4 - I was involved in not one, not two, but three MLMs.  I should probably stop this post right here before the few friends I have left unfriend me.  Ugh.  Y'all, again with the peer pressure.  I was a total sucker for the compliments and attention I was given in order to recruit me.  To this day I have so much guilt about friends that bought something from me because they felt pressured to.  And I cringe so hard anything I hear someone say "let's chat!".  It's straight back to "How To Build Your MLM Empire 101". 

5- Ok, if you're still with me, this last one is an honest doozy.  And I don't mean that with even a hint of sarcasm.  Back in 2016 I voted for Trump.  Hold on, I threw up a little in my mouth just typing that.  Let me explain.  In 2016, I remember feeling so disillusioned with our entire political system (if 2016 Lacey could see 2024 Lacey she probably would have a mental break).  I distinctly recall a conversation with Ryan and Belinda (two stalwart Never Trumpers) where I tried to explain, that as distasteful as I found Trump, I had hope that since he was not a politician, maybe he would actually effect positive change in the country (yes, yes, I know).  My thinking was that because he was already SO successful, he didn't need to play all of the political games, or govern with the sole purpose of winning re-election.  Also, the election was hot on the heels of Benghazi and, for reasons I won't go into, I literally could not fathom voting for Hillary Clinton.  What I WISH I would have done, is vote for a write-in candidate like Ryan did.  But I didn't.  And I feel like there are a lot of people to whom I owe an apology for that.  Read all about it here.  I am SO sorry. 

Back to Basics

When I first started this blog, one of the things I loved most about the process was the opportunity to capture the mundane little details of life.  The blog served as a journal of sorts and was a needed tool for me to verbally process the whirlwind that was my existence in those early years of motherhood.  Somewhere along the way, I started only blogging the BIG things - big events, big feelings, big opinions.  Then, in 2020, when the world fell apart, it all felt too big.

I'd like to get back to the simple.  Where my blog was for me, with the added bonus that sometimes my stories brought laughter to those who were reading them, or, even better, let someone know they weren't alone in the struggle that motherhood can be.

Jane Dare started Drivers Ed on Monday.  Jake is less than 3 months away from not being a teenager anymore.  Ainsley had her senior prom and is now in the final push to graduation.  Reid will be getting his license in about a month.  My life looks so different now from the stage of motherhood that I was in when I started this blog.  I remember running at the YMCA, just praying that I could get to 5 miles on the treadmill before someone came and got me because one of my kids was crying in the child care room.  Those days were physically exhausting.  I remember praying for just an hour or two where no one would touch me, or talk to me.

What no one prepares you for is how the teenage years bring a tradeoff from physical exhaustion to mental exhaustion.   While I won't wax poetic and say that I would go back again to those days again in a heartbeat (I wouldn't, those were some tough times - joyous, fun, happy - but tough) I will be honest that this past year of parenting has been one of the hardest I have ever known.

When your kids are little, there is so much that you can control.  But parenting teenagers is very similar to driving a manual car.  Your control is the clutch.  Their control is the gas.  The teen years is all about that smooth movement of slowly lifting up on the clutch while pushing down on the gas as you allow them the freedom to begin navigating life on their own terms.  The idea is simple. The execution is anything but.  

How much do I hover over grades versus letting them choose how much work to put in?

What is the line between encouraging modesty versus body positivity?

How do I convey the idea of respecting your body without opening the door to the shame that purity culture brings (ask me how I know)?

How much of church attendance is forced versus encouraged (from someone who still has anxiety on Sundays)?

How do you know when they are ready to get their license and drive responsibly?

How much do I step in when they are fired unfairly by a boss that has no patience for special needs?

And that doesn't even begin to get into electronics, social media, curfews, consequences, responsibilities ... the list goes on and on.

If you're a younger mom reading this, I honestly don't mean this to be discouraging.  I'm so grateful that I have some amazing mom friends who have been so encouraging, kind, caring, empathetic and, most of all, non-judgemental as I have navigated this past year.  Having a husband who is an expert in human behavior has been kind of helpful to.  But, even with all that, I'll say again - it is HARD.  So mommas, if you're reading this, I guess I can sum up today's post with a couple thoughts.

1- Let's be each other's biggest cheerleaders.

2- You don't know until you've walked it yourself.  If the words "I personally would never ..." start to come out of your mouth I would encourage you to stop yourself right there.

3 - Parenting is hard.  Give yourself a hug.  And then go give your teenager a hug.  Whether they want it or not. :) 

An Abusive Relationship

For any longtime readers of my blog its probably no surprise when I temporarily revive the blog just to disappear again. I keep wanting to post, but there is just SO MUCH swirling around in my brain and I haven't been able to boil it down into a concise post, or even series of posts. 

But I think there's one topic in particular that I need to revisit before I get busy alienating my social circle with all of the other posts I have on the back burner.  In my last post I talked about the healing that had taken place since I resigned from the foundation.  And while everything that I said was true, I feel like it would be disingenuous to act like all it took was a bathroom remodel and a month of space to get over what happened.  

As time has gone on, I've been able to recognize that I was in an abusive relationship with my boss.  What are some of the telltale signs of such a workplace dynamic?  A high control relationship model, power imbalances,  manipulation tactics, gaslighting.  I realize the word abuse is a strong one and I don't use it lightly.  There is definitely a big difference between a crappy work environment and an abusive work environment.  This article  was a real eye opener for me.  The author notes the following as she was interviewing people for the article:

 "A lot of these stories are told through tears... I can see in their faces that they’re frustrated they can’t find the words to convey how seriously they’re suffering.  Then, a really weird thing happens. After that flashpoint of honesty and vulnerability, they start to walk backwards.

• “It’s my fault; I’m being too sensitive.”

• “I shouldn’t have started out with such high expectations.”

• “Other people would love to have my job; I should feel lucky.”

• “I’m partially to blame too; I should’ve anticipated what would happen.”

• “Some people have real problems; I’m crying about a little work stress.”

• “I’m not ready to quit yet, but I will if it gets any worse.”

• “It’s just a job—I shouldn’t let it get to me like this.” 

I am fairly certain that I said every single one of these statements during my time working at the foundation.  Because while I felt like I was lucky to have this "dream job" nothing was dreamy enough to overcome the fact that I was working for someone with an anxiety disorder.  And this disorder permeated everything that she touched.  Let's go through each of the hallmarks of an abusive work relationship that I listed above and I'll give an example.

High control model:

-I was not allowed to send emails that had not been proofread and approved by her.  My reminder emails to my participants had to come from a template where I plugged in the pertinent details. 

-I couldn't give handouts to my participants at the end of events unless they were approved and formatted with a very specific color scheme.  

-I specifically requested that my team be moved under another supervisor.  EVERY OTHER TEAM was moved to this new supervisor.  Except mine.  Despite the fact that there was stress in our work dynamic, she wouldn't let my team go.  

Power imbalances:

-There was no space in the organization to go for resolution where there wasn't a serious conflict of interest.   My boss was married to the director of the organization.  Which means that when the Director of Operations was brought in to "mediate" after our disastrous performance review, I was relying on someone who directly reported to my boss's husband to try and get the train back on the tracks.  To say that effort failed miserably would be an understatement.  He sat in silence as I was bullied and emotionally manipulated.  

Manipulation tactics:

-Again, as mentioned in a previous post, the foundation had a lot of personal information on me based on the personality assessments that we completed.  When my boss and I had a difference of opinion, she would dig into my profiles and use that data against me.  I still don't have the words to describe how deeply violating that was.  

-Whenever I would voice a concern about how a particular program was being conducted, the response would be to disinvite me from participating in that program in the future. 

Gaslighting:

- See the mileage issue that I spoke of in previous post.  Or anytime I tried to advocate for myself, there would inevitably be a team meeting soon thereafter where we would all be reminded that all that mattered was the mission and and that we were serving the SF community - anything else was our egos getting in the way.

I am loyal to a fault.  Hear me say the last part again - TO A FAULT.  I'm not saying I do it well all the time.  I have been known to punch first and ask questions later when someone that I love has been hurt.  I think what hurts the most is that I worked with so many people that I liked and respected, and when push came to shove, not one of them was willing to stick their neck out and advocate for me based on the work they saw me do and the heart I had shown for the mission.  After further reflection I think this is because of the anxiety ridden work environment that has been created by unchecked leadership. 

Lest this entire post come across as entirely vindictive, I'll repeat again something that I noted a few posts ago - I requested an exit interview.  That request was ignored.  So I sent an email voicing my concerns.  All but one of my concerns was ignored in the carefully crafted response I received.  I hoped that my leaving would open some eyes to the organizational issues that stem from having two people at the top of the org chart who are in what is, at best, an unhappy marriage.  Again, it was all swept under the rug.  I was asked why I don't approach the board of directors.  I would if I could - I have been unsuccessful in finding contact information.

Maybe my mindset is best summed up by the words of the queen herself, Taylor Swift.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

And you're the hero flying around saving face.

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?

Cursing my. name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet. 

False Confidence

 I'll admit that there is another blog post sitting in my saved drafts that further blasts my experience and the mismanagement at the foundation.  It felt good to write it and to get it all out there, however, I've decided that it will stay in my drafts.  While everything I said was true, even to the point of hopefully being constructive criticism, in my heart I know that publishing it won't effect any change.  And, might just further damage the image of an organization that, at the heart of the matter, is doing good and important work.  Do I believe management changes need to be made, yes.  But do I think my words will change that? No.

During my tenure at the foundation I couldn't hear these lyrics without being brought to tears:

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And you're the hero flying around saving face

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet  - My Tears Ricochet, Taylor Swift

Last week I was at lunch with a friend and she asked how I was doing with everything.  Specifically, how was I feeling towards the foundation and the people who hurt me.  It actually brought me to a complete pause (or, as Cher Horowitz would say "I totally paused") because I realized for the first time that I wasn't angry anymore.  Like, I actually sat there and pondered and tried to work up anger, and I couldn't.  It was an amazing feeling.  And, one that I feel quite proud of.  I feel like I'm taking back my self confidence and my power.

I don't know if it's just a factor of time, or personal growth, or that I actually feel like a total badass because I have single handedly remodeled a bathroom during this time, but I feel so content and happy with where I am right now.  While I wouldn't go back to the foundation for all the money in the world, I genuinely want their mission to be a successful one. 

Someone that I know recently returned from a program that was held in Montana.  I reached out to her this week because I wanted to hear how her experience was.  I know how transformative it was for me, and I hoped the same for her.  Her response made me both happy and sad.  Happy because she had a great experience and felt restored after her time there.  Sad because I could tell that she thought I wanted to hear a bad report.  It was further confirmation that leaving my follow up post to dwell in permanent draft purgatory was the right call.  I hope most of my friends know me well enough to know I am not that kind of vindictive.  I was hurt, I was mistreated, I was mismanaged.  All of those things are true.  AND YET, the work that is being done is good, the heart of most of the organization is true and I want as many people as possible to be impacted in a positive way.

I was in the car yesterday and was again brought to tears by a song. 

Don't let those demons in again

I fill the void up with polished doubt, fake sentiment

Surrender yourself

And I wonder why I tear myself down to be built back up again

Oh, I hope somehow, I'll wake up young again

All that's left of myself,

Holes in my false confidence

And now I lay myself down and Hope I wake up young again - False Confidence, Noah Kahan

 I will never stop being a person that trusts too easily, and, possibly, too much.  I always want to believe the best in people. I've lost count of the number of times my poor husband has had to stand by and watch me throw myself into a situation that he knows will hurt me, but also knows he can't keep me from (the perils of being an expert in human behavior,  I suppose).  But I'll do it again.  I'll let myself be torn down, but I'll come back.  I always do.  I wake up young again. 

The End

** This is long.  And not my best writing.  I promised a post updating about my experience over this past year.  This is the best I can do.**

It's been almost a month now that I've been trying to figure out how to tell the story of what happened with my job situation in the last year, specifically the culmination of my time with my former employer (we will call it the foundation).  The words seem to come to me in starts and stops - but never when I'm able to sit and write out the whole story.  I feel a little bit like a 2 liter bottle of coke - I've been on a ride for the last year where I tried to hold on the best I could, but I was repeatedly picked up and shaken to the point of wanting to explode.  Then, I'd be set down and left alone to do my job for just long enough that the bubbles would subside, until, again, I would experience a shake up.  Now, I'm trying to gently pry the lid off to share my experience, but it feels like it's impossible to crack the top without creating a mess.  As I alluded to in my post a few weeks ago, not wanting to create a mess is what has kept me quiet on this blog for so long, and I'm done with that.  So here we go.  

Ryan and I were recently talking about another situation in my life that I'm currently processing and he made the point that rarely is a situation black and white where there is one side that is 100% right and another side that is 100% wrong.  This story that I have to tell is a great example of this...  The foundation has an amazing mission and I hope it will continue for many years.  It was this mission that, when they offered me a part time position (at a fairly low hourly rate) I was willing to sacrifice my stable, full time, flexible, fully benefited, salaried job at AAFMAA to pursue helping a community that I was excited to serve.  I knew that it would be a financial sacrifice for my family, but I had Ryan's full support in that regard.  He had reservations about the possible emotional toll of the job, but, as always, he supported me and encouraged me to follow my heart.  

It wasn't too long after I started at the foundation that I realized that his concerns about the emotional toll were not only because of the people I would be serving, but actually more because of what he had intuited from his interactions with the person I would be working for.  I was not prepared for the level of anxiety and defensiveness that seemed to permeate so many interactions with her.  Coming from a corporate background, I was used to open communication and the freedom to advocate for myself and my coworkers.  I was absolutely unprepared for the different culture in the non-profit space.  It was like I was just supposed to be so grateful to be working there that I would take whatever was given to me and say "thank you".  My failure to do so, and my belief that candid feedback makes us all better,  got me labeled as a bad egg early on.  From there, it was just a slow, painful journey to the end. 

When I requested mileage reimbursement for programs that required me to drive long distances, I was told that I didn't understand the potential implications of my request, and that people could potentially lose their jobs because I was asking for compensation.  

Occasionally messages would be sent to all on Slack with directives that caused me to question if I was doing my job appropriately, or not.  When I requested a little more clarity when such messages were sent, so I could know if I was doing something that needed to change, the reaction I received indicated that they were offended I would ask!  It was as if I was asking to see the personnel files of each of my teammates.  

A few months later, when it came time for my 6 month review, I tried to honestly approach the questionnaire that had been sent to me in preparation for the meeting and give candid feedback. This was a mistake.  I shared that words of affirmation are very meaningful for me and that I would really appreciate a positive affirmation when I did something well.  I received a stone faced response, where I was told that my management was already pushed to her limit and that she could not, or would not, give me any additional positive feedback.  I was shocked.  As she realized how shocked I was, a verbal avalanche ensued.  From that point on, I spoke 20% of the words while the remaining 80% were spoken by my boss.  I started to shut down at the number of words that were being thrown at me.  I tearfully requested that we end the call as I couldn't respond at that time to all the things that were being said.  She responded by pushing me to answer.  I requested again to end the call, with the same response.  The third time that I requested, she agreed.  Ryan came home to find me sobbing.  I was having a hard time understanding how a simple request had gone so wrong.  His immediate response was that I should quit.  He had seen me pouring my heart and soul into the mission - determined to build a thriving support system for the SOF spouses at Fort Bragg.  In the end, I told him I couldn't quit.  I honestly couldn't imagine walking away from the women we were impacting.  He supported me, but remained very worried. 

A few weeks later we scheduled a follow up call where a third party "mediator" was present.  It was at this point I started to realize how sick the foundation was from an organizational standpoint.  There was no room for honest checks and balances because of the fraught relationship of the people in charge.  And there was no opportunity for an unbiased 3rd party - because no one was willing to speak up for what was right at what could be the cost of their job.  The information that was known about me from previous personality assessments I had done, was actually weaponized against me in these meetings - to show that I was wrong while the other party was right. 

I saw this unhealthy dynamic repeatedly.  When I got on the plane to fly home from my time helping run a program in November, I felt emotionally empty.  It took me a while to process why.  I anticipated the toll that the role I needed to play would take.  But what I had not anticipated, was the anxiety that permeated the program.  To the point others picked up on it and asked why my teammates and I were so obviously anxious, especially when our leader was present.  It felt like a contest to see who could be the best little helper.  When I tried to set healthy boundaries with my time or efforts I looked like a slacker or missed out on important interactions - especially because none of my other teammates were willing to risk losing the approval of our leader by setting similar boundaries.  I won't even get into the absolutely laughable idea that a schedule was given to us that kept us neatly to 40 hours a week, to prevent anyone from working overtime, despite the fact that we each easily worked 12 - 14 hour days the entire time we were there.  But, again, I knew better than to bring it up.  I figured if my questions about mileage reimbursement were offensive, I couldn't imagine the reaction when I pointed out the ethics issues with knowingly letting employees work overtime without compensation.

So, how did it all end?  Again, through all of this I was trying to swallow my ego and pride because I loved the people we were helping.  But the final breaking point was when I realized that they were most likely trying to get rid of me.  I made the decision not to attend a leadership summit that was held the week after Thanksgiving.  The timing was too hard for my family given that I had just returned from my previous trip 10 days prior.  When the summit was over, I received two phone calls. One to let me know that someone else would be facilitating all events over in Fayetteville (effectively cutting my job by about half), and another to let me know that they were capping the hours I could work per week at approximately 30% less than what I was allowed the previous year.   After all that work and effort to build the program I was so hurt that these decisions were made with no warning and no discussion.  I sent an email pushing back, and received a multi-page explanation that was clearly based on covering their ass, and manipulating me into seeing their point of view.  I happened to be at lunch with a dear friend, who is is a mental health expert, when the email came through.  Her reaction when I read it to her confirmed everything that I needed to know.  It was time for me to move on.

So, where am I now as I try to process all of this.  I think one of the things that hurts the most, is that I was often reminded while I worked there, that what mattered most was the SOF community we were serving.  Yet this organization had no trouble offering me a position that took me (a current, active duty, SOF spouse) out of a stable career, then pulling back on what I was promised, with no remorse.

The first few days after I sent my resignation were very sad.  It was the realization that I had given my loyalty and trust to people who didn't deserve or honor it.  Also, the knowledge that there was nothing I could do to control the narrative that was told in my absence.  But since those days, I have grown into an overwhelming sense of peace.  I won't allow myself to be gaslit into thinking that I'm a bad or selfish person for asking questions and requesting fair compensation and reimbursement.  I won't sacrifice time watching my kid's play in soccer tournaments or singing in shows in order to gain a kind of social collateral in an organization that plays it's employees off against one another.  I will miss the women I was able to serve and the message of self care I was able to share.  But I will never regret prioritizing my mental health and my time with my family.