Dear X (editor I had drinks with last night),
I woke up this morning with your words ringing louder than the headache I went to bed with last night.
I told myself and hubby I was not affected by what you said, but your words had already seeped so surreptitiously into my subconscious, I didn”t even know.
So, when I woke up this morning with the words “failure, failure, failure” threatening to sound the death knell on my brand new day, I knew you had done it.
You have managed to singlehandedly bring down my already fragile confidence at work to a near zero.
Perhaps I asked for it, and perhaps you didn’t mean to hurt. And perhaps you subscribe to honesty being the best policy.
But I’ve thought about what you said, and, I think, I beg to differ.
So, perhaps I will never be the journalist “with the finishing edge” like you said.
But I beg to the heavens I will not become a seasoned newsman like you, or like your peers I face everyday at work.
After all, what is it about your lives that there are worth envying?
I pray to be a different breed, with a different “finishing edge” and continue to be “competent and hardworking” like you said.
I pray to be equally successful with my personal life as well as in my career.
I hope you won’t be offended with what I’ve said. I still respect you and your work.
But I choose to chart a different course and I won’t be taking your words along with me.
