Poster Child: Have you seen this person?

There comes a time in one's life when enough is enough. Well, that day was Monday and though it's been drilled into my brain that I am enough, on this particular day, I'd had enough.  

First, let's recap.

My family and I hail from California, I started my doula journey there with DONA. We moved north near Seattle where I opened my own doula agency, Issaquah Doula, after finding ProDoula. Shortly thereafter I became a trainer and then I was asked to move my whole family across the country to work in the ProDoula office in New York to be their Executive Training Coordinator (as well as a trainer). So we did that.  

Working there was great. Usually. Once you learned how to navigate around the eggshells. Being told (jokingly of course!) that you're going to be fired, oh I don't know a few times a month, can certainly damper your attitude. You know what else feels like a big old bucket of cold, dirty pipe water thrown on a glorious burning fire? The constant rhetoric that you are in fact a disappointment. 

A disapointment? Me.  

Surly, I've travelled into the Twilight Zone, because these people don't look like my family!  

Yet they pretended to be.  

Has anyone ever been yelled at by their boss? And I mean YELLED. Like, your office mates could hear. Gosh, the people on the street could likely hear something going on!  

I asked for clarification as I was completely flabbergasted and confused. Instead I was bombarded with accusations of me not giving my all.  

Seriously? Because I chose to pick up my family and travel a billion miles to be here. I gave 110% every single day. I worked nine hour days without overtime, spent over an hour in my car, rarely saw my children and husband and lived paycheck to paycheck with the hope and dream that the future of this company would grow and that I would get to be a part of it's growth.  

Being told. Wait. Being screamed at, by the one person who preaches the whole "I am enough" shiz, that I instead am a disappointment, a let down, and a failure is the gut wrenching, tear-your-heart-out kind of feeling. Remember when your first love broke your heart? How you sunk to your knees in despair? How you cried like never before? You could feel tightening in your chest that you just knew was your heart breaking?


So instead of "meeting in an hour to determine what happens next" I went into my office, after having to face my office mates to get there, and sat at my desk behind closed doors and bawled. Meanwhile I can hear her laughing while on the telephone.  

I did what any human should do when faced with that kind of behavior.  

I donned my cloak, grabbed my handbag, wiped my tears, lifted my chin and walked straight the fuck out of there.  

Someone must have called or texted you? Nope.  

Instead, I discovered later, that I was removed from the Training & Development team, So You Think You Can Doula, BOBAD, and the Membership group. Even though I'm a paid member. I was even removed from a private group chat between trainers that was donating to Emily's family. So, Emily the reason why my name won't be in the card was because I've been erased. 

Erased. Wiped out. Ignored. I'm still waiting on the office to provide me with copies of the contracts I signed. Surly someone there can get those to me in a timely manner?

Good news!  

Fuck that noise! 

Do you know why I'm resilient? Do you know why I know things will be just fine? Because when it comes to the Foreman Five, it always works out. Always.  

Since the Buzzfeed article, ProDoula lost a bunch of members. I read each of their #speakyourtruth posts and I watched the numbers decrease. I also know there are many doulas out there in the world who don't know where to go. Some doula organizations are outdated and ProDoula is well, scary.  

If only there lived a utopian doula land where ideas and likemindedness can fuse with professionalism and integrity. Real compassion atop the mountains of support. A place for people to flourish. A positive place. One where we don't need to hear the riff-raff or put-downs. Where we can say, "Enough is enough!" knowing that we are enough, not because of some hashtag. But because we are human. 

Hey, ho! Let's go