Tonight I basically plowed right through my workout. I guess adrenaline-fueled anger really can make you suddenly stronger, because the weights felt like toys to me this evening.
So what's the source of all this rage? You guessed it - work. Again.
Right on the heels of the "fatty" incident from the other day, I learned that one of my colleagues has been promoted ahead of me. This person is very nice and very talented and deserves a promotion ... but not before I get one. This person has been working in our office for about three years. I've been there for nearly twelve at this point.
Now you're probably thinking that I just suck at my job, but I don't. I've been assured that I don't. I've been told, "We don't know what we'd do without you" numerous times. I always get really positive reviews whenever it's time for evaluations. I'm constantly given difficult assignments and complete them, even though I often get more work than a lot of my other colleagues. This person has never done any of the tougher assignments that I've taken on. Knowing the way that things are going, this person will never be given said assignments and they will continue to be given to me.
Still, my boss refuses to move me up to the next position. It's been about six years since my last promotion.
I know for a fact that this is not because of the work I put out because I heard from a very reliable source that my boss thinks I'm "talented, but don't know how to play the game." To me, this is code for, "Yeah, we're not going to promote the fat chick." No one has ever said this to me outright, but knowing my bosses' dislike of the overweight, I'm assuming that this is what's driving their decision.
A lot of this is my fault. I'm a wimp. I'm still trying to find my self-esteem and courage that got left behind somewhere along the road. I know that I need to stand up for myself. I don't know how to go about it, though. I don't like playing games, especially at work. I'm kind of old school in that I believe that talent and hard work should get you ahead. I suppose I'm naive, but you'd figure that my twelve years of hard work, devotion to the company through salary cuts and pay freezes, willingness to be a team player and well, seniority, would mean something.
Apparently they mean squat.
You're probably asking me why on earth I've stayed with this place. Well, in my field jobs don't come easily and I worked hard to get it. Most of the time I like it, though this past year has been extremely stressful. Besides that, though, I'm scared. My husband is all for me leaving and doing freelance, but I'm worried that I'll find that I have nothing to do. The practical side of me is worried that my husband won't keep doing as well in his career and we'll run out of money. Mostly, I'm scared of making such a big change. I've been at this job for a third of my life and leaving feels kind of like moving on from a spouse who you care for, but know that you should've divorced a long time ago.
Still, I've made a huge decision today and am planning to finally leave next week. This is the last straw. I have to do this and collect what's left of my dignity and sanity.
But I'm terrified.
After years of battling my weight and going from thin to fat, I've given up on going after that perfect look. I'll never be a model. I'll never be a beauty queen. What I do keep hoping for, though, is that losing weight and feeling phsyically stronger will help me feel mentally stronger. I want to feel more confident. I need to feel more confident. I'm confident that I'm making the right move here.
Then why am I still doubting myself?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
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