I sat in the waiting room outside of the big boss's office, nervously waiting for an appointment that would change my life. 

​​

The administrative assistant looked up from her computer where she was probably playing Minesweeper. 

​​

"Ms. Deborah will see you now."

​​

I straightened my red wool jacket, the first I had ever bought with my own money. 

"Dress for the job you want," I had always heard. So here I was, overdressing for the job I wanted.

​​

I wanted to be the Activity Director at the nursing home where I worked. 

​​

Technically, I already was the Activity Director at the nursing home where I worked, since I was the only person in the entire department. I was responsible for everything, all the activities, prepping, running, cleanup, and documentation.

​​​​

It was me who sat there and said the rosary a hundred million times with all five of the devout catholic ladies in our facility - and I wasn't even Catholic!

​​

It was me who ventured into a freezing cold field at Christmastime in heels, gathered sticks, spray painting them white and sprinkling glitter all over them, getting a good dose of glitter on myself in the process. It was me who used these to decorate our activity room because The Activities Department didn't have a big enough budget to decorate for the Big Annual Christmas Party.

​​​​

It was me who pulled endless bingo balls out of the cage three times a week and gave them to Anne, the sweet little old blue-haired lady who couldn't see them. I would whisper the number to her and she would say each number aloud so that she could feel like she was helping. 

​​

I had done all of this and much more for over two years.​​ I had earned the title of Activity Director. And I was about to go ask for it.

​​​​

I stood and walked through the door. Ms. Deborah sat there smiling at me, hands folded on her desk. "How can I help you?"

​​​​

I gulped.

​​

I struggled with social anxiety. That made it difficult to talk to people, especially people in authority. My undiagnosed ADHD also made it difficult to look people in the eye.  And I was petrified of rejection to the point that I couldn't even get a date. 

​​

Therefore, what I was about to do was just

about the most difficult thing I had ever done.

​​​​

I told Ms. Deborah how much I loved working there. I reminded her of how the company had paid for me to earn my Activity Director certification. She nodded, and I felt emboldened, even though there was a lump in my throat and I was terrified to proceed.

​​​​

"I want the Title of Activity Director." 

​​​​

Ms. Deborah kept smiling the whole time, but she said, "I was afraid of this. I'm afraid we just dont have the budget for that."

​​​​

Crestfallen but trying not to show it, I said, "But I dont want a raise. Just the title.

I'm already doing the job."

​​​​

"The job title is Activity Assistant,' she said cheerfully.

​​​​

This was maddening. "How can I be an assistant when there's no one to be an assistant TO?"

​​​

"Nevertheless..." She waited.

​​​

I had a choice to make and I had to make it right now. 

​​​

Would I continue to work at a place that I loved but that had no future? That made millions of dollars per year from elderly people, most of whom had sold everything they owned just to afford living there, but who wouldn't budge on giving me the title I needed to be able to move forward in my career because it might eventually cost them a few extra bucks?

​​​​​

I steeled myself. I was not giving in. 

​​​​

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to give my notice."

​​

To be honest, I had hoped this would force Ms. Deborah to realize my worth and come back begging with a counter-offer.

​​​​

It didn't work.

​​​​

"We will be sad to see you go," she said pleasantly.

​​​

I realized then that to her, I was just another cog in their machine. She would find another cog, more willing perhaps, to trade security for self-respect.

​​​​

We shook hands, and that was that. And just like that, I was jobless.

​​​

I had no plan for what to do after that. I'd had all my hopes pinned on getting that Title.

​​​​

Which turned out to be a good thing. 

​​​​

Because If I hadn't been jobless, I dont think I would ever have said 'Yes' when I was presented the opportunity to work as a Caricaturist at Sesame Place, a local theme park.

​​​​

Which turned out to be the first step in a

25-year career that has seen me blossom and grow as a person, overcome social anxiety, travel the world, work for myself and name my price.

​​

Sometimes we have to let go of things that are comfortable, which aren't serving us,

in order to make way for new blessings. And it's imperative to know your worth.

​​​​

And that's the story of how I got into caricature without telling you at all about how I got into caricature.

​​​

I'll save that one for another time.