Tired Ass Mom

Before you dive in, I’ll say this upfront: this is another work story. Another moment I can’t quite let go of.

It starts in early 2021.

Picture this: you’re a store manager returning from maternity leave in the middle of a pandemic. You have a toddler and an infant at home, and you’re managing a massive store that sells all “essential” items. I was exhausted — physically, mentally, emotionally.

So I made a decision that surprised a lot of people.

I stepped back.

I took a medical scheduler position for significantly less pay. I needed a reset. A fresh start. I’d climbed the ladder before, and I trusted I could do it again — just more intentionally this time.

Fast forward four years.

I received my second supervisor rejection.

I worked my ass off. Truly. And that one stung. It felt like a slap in the face. But I did what I always do — shook it off and got back to work.

I eventually met the candidate who was offered the role. We’ll call her Jessica.

At first, she seemed great. Knowledgeable. Approachable. Someone who might teach me new things or help me grow. I felt hopeful.

Then I took a couple of weeks off for medical reasons.

When I came back, things felt… different.

I learned our team was being split. I would remain under my previous supervisor, and Jessica would take the other assistant. Around the same time, I realized I had been removed from all the communication channels for the area I had overseen.

That hurt.

Not just because I was excluded — but because I had created many of those groups. And suddenly, I was gone from them. I noticed one channel I hadn’t been removed from, so out of pure spite (if I’m being honest), I removed myself.

At the next meeting, Jessica mentioned it.

I said, “I was removed from all the other conversations. I figured that one was just an oversight, so I removed myself.”

She and her assistant exchanged a look. One of those looks you feel more than understand.

And from there, my brain spiraled.

I tried to tell myself it wasn’t personal. But at the same time… how could it not be?

Her responses to my questions became fewer and farther between. My calls went to voicemail. The offers to help me learn processes suddenly felt hollow. I noticed issues developing in the area I used to oversee. I offered support, tools, help — all declined.

It became clear she didn’t want or need me.

I felt discarded.

A few months later, Jessica excelled in her role and began hiring a supervisor for the area I was responsible for. I applied — hesitantly — because I didn’t think she liked me. Still, I applied. I even emailed her directly, expressing excitement and attaching my resume and letters of recommendation.

No response.

Then, on New Year’s Eve, I received the automated email: Thank you for applying, another candidate has been selected.

I was shocked.

I thought company policy required interviews for all qualified internal candidates. I sat with it for a week before telling a friend — who happens to be a VP in Human Resources. She asked me one simple question:

“What are you going to do about it?”

So I emailed HR. I explained the sequence of events and made it clear — I wasn’t upset I didn’t get the role. I was upset I didn’t get the opportunity to interview.

HR suggested I ask Jessica directly.

So I did.

She scheduled a virtual meeting for the following week. Right before it started, she CC’d my supervisor. Fine. She can hear it too.

On the call, Jessica said they were there to answer my questions and handed the floor to me.

I asked, calmly, “Can you help me understand why I wasn’t considered for an interview?”

She stumbled. Said they were looking for someone with experience.

I told her I had five years of experience. I reminded her I had emailed my resume.

She acknowledged she saw the email — but didn’t really look at it.

So I asked, “Can I ask what made you see my email and think ‘no’?”

More stumbling.

Then she said, “You don’t always have to be the smartest person in the room.”

And there it was.

That moment clarified everything — and somehow made nothing easier.

Now, months later, issues are arising on her side of the work. And I hate how much it still affects me. I know who she is now. I know where I stand. I should be able to move on.

But she still irritates me more than she should.

Maybe it’s not really about her.

Maybe it’s about unresolved hurt. About effort that went unseen. About being dismissed without being heard. About knowing your value and still being told — indirectly — that it doesn’t matter.

I don’t want to carry this forever.

But right now, I’m still asking myself why I let it get under my skin