This has been an emotional week for me; leaving me with a continuous realization of just how blessed I am to have so much encouragement and support. I have people in my corner who barely know me, backing me up in a professional sense, to see that I am awarded with any and every opportunity available to me. In a professional sense, I have never experienced this, ever. Most times I am looked at as merely a faceless admin. I am a warm body who pumps out the work, easily replaceable and easily forgettable. That's the life of a legal admin. I've never accepted that, and even when the money became more than I ever thought I'd ever make, I still don't accept that. This week, a very respected and prominent figure in the legal community sat me down in her office and offered to mentor me while I make the transition from a corporate paralegal to a lawyer. She told me things that only my mother or husband has told me: I'm smart, the work I produce is very good. I can do it if I apply myself. I should reach and be pushed to my highest potential. And, as she sits on the selection board at the Faculty of Law, she knows what will stand out when I apply. Without my knowledge, she spoke to the management committee of my Firm and put a strong request to keep me supplied with paralegal-level work. She stressed the importance of this; I must stay on track and follow my dream. She will provide the environment; the rest is up to me.
My entire week has been like this, from family and friends to those I have always looked up to in awe. This doesn't happen to people like me! I'm a normal North-End girl, who lives in a 900 sq ft home, with a teenage son and a blue collar husband. I'm not the advantaged Charleswood girl with the BMW's in the garage and parents who could buy the entire dealership if they wanted. No one, in a professional sense, has done or said such things to me, has backed me up so thoroughly, has given me the confidence to think that maybe, just maybe, I really CAN do it.
A small part of me is waiting for it all to come crashing down. Shit like this just doesn't happen in real life. Maybe the joke is on me and I just haven't realized it yet. And if that's the case, worst case scenario I come out with an advanced degree in Labour Studies. Who will be laughing then I wonder?
Sold my car yesterday. It is the first sacrifice of many yet to come. It was really, really hard; I so loved that car and the independence it provided me. But, I just need to keep my eye on the prize, right? The money will help pay for my studies and will ease the financial burden at home. There is a purpose to all this. One day in the not-so-distant future I will walk into a dealership and buy a brand-new car.
In cash.
And thumb my nose at all those who told me I couldn't do it. Fuckers.
