A Flawed Diamond Shines

Most people would assume the “Value” of a diamond is determined by the karats it has; but, did you ever stop to think about what it went through to make the cut? I have always considered myself as a diamond in the rough. My life was series of up and down but the toughest moments made my inner child shine through. The rough part of what the diamond goes though is some of the strongest pressure, but that pressure can considered important when determining its worth. Being able to shine is not always easy especially when you dim your own light. The pressures of life can have that effect on everyone at times. Growing up, I have always been my true self with my humor, independence, nerdiness, loyalty and understanding. However this is my story of allowing my emotional authentic self-to be seen.

I also knew that I had authentic feelings however, I felt the most doubt when expressing them to others. I was raised by two military parents both with dominant personalities. In the earlier years they were quite happy –but getting closer to my pre-teen years is when they started to butt heads. To make matters worse I was an only child in my household with 3 half-brothers. I only really knew their names and had only visited them about three times growing up. Our father was also the common factor.

Ironically, I had 3 male cousins on my mother side who were my substitute brothers. However, they couldn’t always be there when my parents fought. It was always me, myself and I. There were SO many arguments they got into that in those moments I just wanted to yell “SHUT UP!”, so that their anger can be directed towards me instead each other.

I always was a daddy’s girl but I did have a strained relationship with my father emotionally because I wanted to keep the peace. After the divorce, my mom had custody of me but to say our relationship was perfect would be a lie. My mother is very outspoken, confident, loving and caring woman but sometimes she could be overbearing. Also, when expressing her dislike for certain things I did, her words could be hurtful. I never told her how I felt because I didn’t want to be disrespectful or defiant towards her for “talking back”. I learned to keep my cool for all those stressful moments… Until the day I couldn’t anymore.

At the time, I was 25 years old and employed at my mother’s job. I had been working there for about two years in two different departments. My first department was where I really fit in with the workers. However, the problems began when my mom suggested that I move to the care management department. The pro’s sounded good at first: better pay, only two days coming into the office and most importantly showing my “growth” in the company for better opportunities. However the BIGGEST con was that it was NOT what I dreamed of doing at all.

Growing up, my mother had always mentioned that I’d make a great nurse/social worker. While my bedside manner and innate nurturing instincts were always there, it wasn’t my passion. I felt almost like I didn’t have a choice to say “no I’d rather stay over here” – but I didn’t want my mom to think I wasn’t grateful for the opportunity. My chance to express my feelings about the “promotion” slipped through the cracks.

After moving into the new territory with the clinical nurses who could recite Rx’s in their sleep, to say I felt intimidated would be an understatement. I was placed with the CMC’s (case management coordinator) - the non-clinical outreach team to get our members enrolled in case management.

I was no stranger to dealing with people, I have ALWAYS been a people person- but this job was more tedious than I had pictured. Overtime, I began to lose interest in the job. I got wind from gossip of who the micromanagers and the more laid back supervisors were on the team. I had been in the department for a year dealing with unfavorable demands, some allegations (later disproven), and friendly members in my caseload along with the more difficult case members.

My mother would always ask me “How is the job going” and my response was always a resounding “fine”. I could’ve told her how much I couldn’t stand the job but again I held back on my emotions as not to be disrespectful but eventually everyone gets fed up with downplaying their frustration.

I recognize that I grew up with a single mother who always worked hard to keep a roof over my head. I love her to death but there were times that I felt I could never really open up to her without it turning into her dominating the conversation. I was always a daddy’s girl and sometimes I felt that she would look at me and only see my father which would subconsciously make her upset because my mannerisms favored his. With all the stress of going to a job that I resented and dealing with the mental exhaustion of my mother back home – I somehow was able to keep my cool. Until I couldn’t anymore.

My authentic feelings finally came out on the day I signed my letter of resignation.

I know what you’re thinking, it was my decision to resign. I’d be lying if I said that was true. Everyone was preparing for the holidays and the work day was coming to an end. I had an hour left in my shift before my mother pulled me into the hallway to inform me that she saw my recent annual review and was not happy with the results. My mother is the assistant to the CEO of the company, so she had access to everyone’s reviews including her boss.

Fueled by her own anger, she told me to send an email to my supervisor advising them that I would be resigning to “further my education.” Mind you, I graduated college back in 2017 and didn’t have plans to get my masters at the time. I knew this excuse was BS but I still went ahead and sent my resignation email without a second thought. According to my mother, my name was on the list of employees who were to be terminated. However, I had spoken with my supervisor about improving my performance before the forced resignation. I realized later on my mother wanted to avoid the embarrassment of her daughter allegedly getting “fired”. Initially, it seemed fine because I didn’t enjoy the job in the first place. However as the day progressed I started to realize how haphazardly I reacted. It was almost second nature to never fight my mother on her reactions.

My only other confidant that was aware of my strained relationship with my mother was my boyfriend. When I told him the news, he was disappointed in my response towards the matter. On our car ride to his place, our conversation about the whole situation made me realize how angry I was at my mother for constantly trying to dictate my life choices. Forcing me to quit the position without my input was the final straw for me.

Later on, my mother called me that night to further lecture me on what I needed to do now that I was unemployed. While trying to say my piece, she would interrupt me to voice her opinion. “It’s over with Ceirra!!” she said “just move on from Aetna-!!” At that point, my ability to hold in my emotions became non-existent.

Immediately, an outburst of tears streamed from eyes and the voice I constantly kept quiet came out. I had never felt so courageous than in that moment. I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders with every sentence I screamed. My mom had only seen this side of me two other times in my entire life. Even after I expressed myself she still didn’t fully understand my point of view.

At the age of 25, I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions and having my own mind. Growing up it frustrated me that mother would never allow to me critique her decisions without her taking the criticisms as an “attack”.

Mentally, I couldn’t go back home and after that night I stayed with my boyfriend for the following 2 months. In that time, I was able to find a new job on my own, maintained my car payments, and my boyfriend and I found a new place to live.

After a while, my mother reached out to me to talk about our distant relationship. I agreed to go over to her house and I was NOT afraid to express my reasons for leaving. I felt that she finally accepted that I was my own woman and that she was proud that I finally stood up for myself.

Presently, my mother and I have a better understanding of each other. The feeling of not walking on egg shells around her was the best thing I could’ve asked for in our relationship. Now when I go to visit I don’t feel the need to rush out of the house to avoid confrontation.

In conclusion, at the age of 28 I can say my feelings were always authentic but expressing them was always a challenge. Standing up for myself in that moment was a way for me to show my “True” self. I still have my days were I may clam up with certain situations but eventually I say what is on my mind. I don’t live in fear of sparing other people’s feeling all the time. I hope to continue to be comfortable to express myself going forward in life.

My Authentic Self is a logical, empathetic, slightly stubborn and goofy individual on the outside. On the inside is the inner child always reminding me to let her speak freely and allow healing and growth to be my guiding light.