When Your Past Invites You To Come Back
It was the call I’d waited for so much of my career.
It felt like it dropped out of the sky late this summer.
A new news organization reached out a saying they wanted to discuss an opportunity.
I thought they would want me to produce uplifting and positive content, after all this is what I’ve been doing since losing my job as a network news anchor.
They had bigger ideas.
Much bigger.
“Would you consider joining us to be our primetime news anchor?” they asked.
Or in other words, “Would you consider coming back to your old career, your old life?”
If you had the chance, would you go back?
What about you, Dear Reader? If you had the chance, would you go back?
To the one who tossed you out and broke your heart?
It might have been a job,
A great love,
A place.
The feeling was the same. You were in love and the rejection smashed your heart. For longer than you’d like to admit you sat by the phone hoping he, she, they, would call.
And when they didn’t, you did what we do. Moved on. Recreated and rebuilt your life.
Here I was. Phone in hand, jaw on the floor, faced with the question. Would I go back?
I would have to consider really big things like leaving this coastal hideaway Husband and I moved to last January. Add to that a Monday-Friday strict schedule where I would work nights and barely see Husband during the week.
This was sounding less and less attractive.
But being honest, which is what we do here, not so unattractive that I stopped taking their calls. They appeared to get more and more excited about me and I got more excited about the opportunity. I decided to go as far as getting an offer.
We were at the final stage where I needed to share with them all the projects I still had going.
“My, you’re busy,” was the first sign they weren’t so into me. “We love you, but can’t hire you, but we love you and would love to stay in touch,” was their final missive to me.
It sounded much like that long ago boyfriend who called to say he was going to ask his old girlfriend to marry him, but surely, we would stay best friends because he loved me so much.
True story for another column.
Now, that’s a phone call I’m clear I would never take or consider.
Still, it’s funny how life can check in with you. “Have you really moved on?”
This I know.
It was fun to get the call.
Not nearly as fun as it would’ve been years ago when I was crying on the bathroom floor.
The best part, I didn’t need to get the call.
Not now.
I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
In faded a T-shirt and jeans, writing away.
With Husband.
The marsh.
And you.
Thankful for our call I answer each week right in this space.
While you’re here…
If you like this story, you might enjoy my book,
