A few years ago, I was overwhelmed with grief after life had thrown me one crushing blow after another. My 28-year-old cousin died suddenly. Not long after that, I became a foster parent, but it didn’t work out.
As those devastating losses weighed on me, it became increasingly clear that a new job I had hoped would work out just wasn’t the right fit. I knew it, but something in me refused to give up. I refused to be a quitter. So I stuck with it, then just when I felt like I was healing and that things were turning a corner, I got laid off.