This book of blank pages has been with me back and forth to work, moved to my purse, taken on trips, and sat next to my bed for about a year. The cover, a soft wrinkled sea-foam green, in black print it says, nevertheless she persisted. It is still full of blank pages. I had big dreams for you little sea-foam green book.

One page says “The strength of the team is each individual member. The strength of each member is the team.” I am not 100% satisfied at my job. It’s a career, I have put so much time and energy into being in this position. Money is good, benefits are good, actually the job itself is good. The people who run the place and the coworkers are awful. I come here and just do my thing hoping to avoid all the drama and all the stupid. I consider myself a team player as well as making sure I am satisfied individually. I cannot say I am one of the go-getter employees now after 10 years of being here. I used to be and I enjoyed it. I got stomped all over and felt very unappreciated so I chose to not be a part of those groups that took extra energy out of me. I happily do what I am asked and that is all they are getting. Lets just say I am very happy to leave at the end of shift. There really should be a VERY hard personality/communication/job skills/empathy/work ethic test for applicants to pass to become management. That’s all I’m saying.

Another page of the sea foam green book says in scribbled cursive “emotional intensity, we all have our should’ve’ s, what are your musts” and underneath that it says “break that glass ceiling, release the limitations, we choose to set in the past.” I am going to take a stab and assume that should say we choose to sit in the past, but I can barely read my own handwriting. Two notes here, first of all, damn I need to use my penmanship more often it has truly gone downhill. Scary actually. Second, the commute to work that day listening to personal development must have been really deep.

Emotional intensity is a lost art. I beg others to understand. I know I hide so many emotions, good, bad, weak, strong, fun, sad, excitement, blah, sympathetic, you name it. I want to be able to be myself. I don’t feel like its accepted to be emotional, especially with intensity. Brings tears to my eyes, that is how I know I have been hiding these thoughts for a long time. I think when you do let loose, society is so quick to judge. Yes, I suffer from some level of anxiety. I have never been medically diagnosed but damn I tell you.. shits real. I remember a time when I could show energy and not be stared at or questioned for being real, and no I’m not talking about being 6. I am saying its tragic that society has caused us to play down our emotions. Just today on Instagram I saw a subject of Hollywood popularity post a picture saying Happy Birthday to their child who looks so sad. Did you pick that picture because he has that male model look? Do you really not have a picture that screams childhood is fun! ugh.. heartbreaking. Have we really conditioned ourselves to just being blah? Will our kids have childhood memories of being happy and excited?

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve but I didn’t, and I don’t. I don’t have many regrets. Some of the huge events that have happened to me in life were totally meant to be. Some of my actions probably weren’t musts, however, I am a true believe that I MUST have needed to do all the things and have all the experiences in order to be where I am. I am not just speaking of physically where I am or in life where I am. I am saying more of the “street cred” where I am. Thanks Caitlin for telling me I have street cred. Not in a million years would I have put that under my qualifications. I like it.

That slightly gives me a lead into breaking that glass ceiling. At this point in life, age 40, not really feeling like I’m making a difference, not really feeling like I matter, I have bounced off that glass ceiling a few hundred times, but breaking it I believe shall come. I am trying so freaking hard to release the limitations in my soul, to feel again. I need to let go of so much, showing up with a smile and a laugh, but never really letting many in. That last sentence could probably be on my headstone. Always a work in progress.. aren’t we all?

The third and last page that has any ink on it is a page full of topics to write about here. That page brings me joy in the fact that for so long I have wanted to do this and finally started. Here goes nothing! Glass ceiling, I am coming for you!