I finally cracked the code on why this job has me uneasy. It’s not just about long hours or being asked to carry extra weight (though yes, I worked Saturday, yes, I created a whole training module, yes, I’m facilitating multiple sessions while the company cries broke). It’s deeper: it’s about value.
I’ve been placed in a real role, doing real work, while leadership openly admits they want the next person to come in through the “junior” track. Translation? They know I skipped the entry lane, but they also know they didn’t compensate me for the upgrade. They’re cashing in on my labor while withholding the acknowledgment that labor deserves.
Now, old me would stew in resentment. Present me knows I am undervalued. This is strain and asking for what I’m worth is a risk, but silence is a greater one.
What I fear isn’t the “no.” I’ve survived no’s. I’ve turned closed doors into new corridors before. I know myself: my tolerance for exploitation has grown shorter with age. I can already feel the edges of my patience sharpening.
And yet, this fear itself is information. It’s telling me my spirit cannot live indefinitely in misalignment. I will not rot quietly in resentment.If they deny me my due, I pivot. Even if the pivot takes months, even if timing feels wrong, I do not betray myself.
Because when one door slams, I press forward..
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