The Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me Was Getting Fired
Losing a job sucks. Losing two jobs in a single year, in an industry that I was practically born into? It completely throws a person off. But when the universe slams a door, what other option does a girl have but to go with the flow and stop fighting the resistance?
This past January, I left my part-time shifts at a local wine bar for our standard winter break. I fully expected to see everyone at the holiday party. Instead, I opened an email to find out I had been let go. It was not only a massive surprise, but a direct jab to my ego. It triggers that spiral of self-doubt: If I can’t even keep a shift at a wine bar or a coffee shop, am I completely unhireable? For months, I carried this heavy weight of disrespect and a total lack of closure, wondering how a business could dismiss someone so casually over a digital screen.
But beneath the sting, a quiet voice kept telling me that maybe my time in the service industry was finally up. After two generations of my family running owned restaurant businesses, it was time for a new timeline.
Since that January email, my life hasn't just recovered, it has completely thrived.
Just last week, I was driving home on Coast Highway from a major commercial shoot. As I passed the wine bar, I saw them flipping the chairs and closing up the shift. A wave of relief hit me. All I could think was, Thank God I am not inside those walls right now. If I were still trapped in that loop, I wouldn't have the scheduling freedom or the creative energy to build what is right in front of me. I also realized that losing my access to that place was a hidden blessing. Breaking the habit of constantly frequenting and drinking there was exactly what my physical and mental health actually needed.
By clearing out the clutter of closing shifts and routines that didn't serve me, I made the open space for my true identity to land. Since January, I have booked national principal commercial campaigns for Adobe and Roku. As I type this, I am literally sitting on a flight up the coast for another major regional booking in Monterey.
Beyond the camera, I’ve landed a resident monthly silversmith workshop at an art gallery on Coast Highway in South Oceanside, and I have officially locked in a new energetic minimum standard for my career.
Sometimes, getting dropped from a timeline you think you need—and being denied the "closure" you think you want—is the only way the universe can launch you into the reality you actually deserve.
