Funny Money

...Actually there is nothing funny about getting laid off, but let's try.

My daughter doesn’t know I got laid off last Wednesday. She came home from daycare that evening, my face swollen from tears, hers smiling, happy to see me. We played with blocks and books until it was time for bed. I rocked her as she fell asleep on my chest, and I let quiet tears fall down my cheeks. My lips rested on the top of her head as I whispered that we would fix this, we would give her the life she deserves, one of safety and security.

Losing your job fucking sucks. I was completely blindsided by it, I had just finished a great year at work. I was told repeatedly that it wasn’t performance based, it wasn’t personal. But it couldn’t be more personal to me- I worked tirelessly to ensure I could keep the job that currently supports my family with income and health insurance, only to be left panicking, picking up the pieces and dusting off my resume.

I know I will find another job. But in the interim, my heart rate feels like the floor of a frat house right after Brett drops the beat. I have always been funny about money. I think when you grow up primarily without it, money becomes a symbol of safety. When I don’t have it, I genuinely feel unsafe. I feel vulnerable and anxious. I grew up with a single mom who worked her ass off to ensure my sister and I never went without, but I was very aware of how delicate money was, and how not having it was stressful and dangerous. Hearing my mom fight over a medical bill we couldn’t pay, questioning if a field trip fee was too much. It all played into an obsession of having money to keep myself safe.

In recent years, I have had more steady finances, with my career and family support. Anyone who says money doesn’t buy happiness, hasn’t ever been without it. It’s something rich people say to make you not feel bad. Not being scared of a doctor’s visit or an accident, paying off a credit card on time, being able to get a coffee or pick up breakfast with a friend, it adds a carefree blanket over life that I previously did not have covering me. A new handbag doesn’t replace the happiness brought to you by being loved or having community…but not having to panic if your car breaks down? That’s joy. It just is.

Not having my income right now is terrifying on many levels. When Michael was laid off a year and a half ago, we agreed that him going to business school was the best choice for our family’s future, and I still think it was the right choice. But it meant I was taking on being our main income. Since I was not anticipating being laid off, I took the meeting in an open space in our home, and Michael heard everything. As soon as I got off the call, he ran up the stairs and told me everything will be okay, we will figure it out. I cried into his arms out of fear, out of disappointment, out of anger and sadness. I gave everything I could to ensure my family’s security, and it wasn’t enough.

Now at 10 months postpartum, I’m starting over. I’ve been here before. The difference this time is something bigger than me-our daughter, Violet. Whatever I do, I’m doing it for her, for our family. This has been the most tumultuous four years for Michael and I. Layoffs, losses, uncertainty and unsteadiness. We have been riding a wave that seems hellbent on pulling us under. And maybe before I would have let it for a bit. But I don’t have that option this time. I need to not only stay afloat, I need to ride it like whatever body double Kate Bosworth was using in Blue Crush. Or maybe it was Kate Bosworth, she’s superhuman to me still. Maybe it’s her Heterochromia.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I wish a job didn’t hold this much weight in my life. I wish it wasn’t tied to so much of my worth. After all, my family is safe and healthy, we are all together and happy. I’m kind and a good mom. I wish that could pay the mortgage. But since it doesn’t, I’m metaphorically (but wish I was actually) putting on some Roxy board shorts and taking the waves that come my way. I hope one brings me to solid ground.