A Start

The Job

On July 25th, 2025, at 10:58AM, I got a call from my former boss asking me to come back as a department manager at his store. I had transferred out about eight months earlier, on my 19th birthday, to another location to pursue a different position. To hear that I was still on their radar, that I had left a mark strong enough for them to reach out, was flattering. I accepted. Within a week, I was back.

Things started out fast. Within the first week I was already coming up with ways to make the department run more efficiently. By the second week, I had secured a sale worth nearly $40,000. It shattered every record that department had. I was doing well, and I knew it. Maybe a little too well. My ego started to creep in.

I was the youngest department manager in the store. My assistant, for example, is nearly twice my age. She had actually applied for my position before I even knew they were considering me. She didn’t like me very much then. I’m not sure she does now.

People talk. After becoming a manager, I started hearing things about myself that were... hard to take. At first I was angry. Angry that people went out of their way to pick apart everything I did, waiting for me to slip. But over time, I started noticing something familiar. The things they said about me were the same kinds of things I used to say about my old bosses.

Since then, I’ve been trying to work on myself. I want to be a better leader for my team. I want them to leave work feeling fulfilled. I don’t want to be the boss who hides behind the desk, barking orders and taking credit. I want to help them achieve things. I hate this divide where half my team looks up to me while the other half quietly hopes I fail.

The Regret

Work isn’t the only thing that’s been on my mind. Recently, I had a conversation with a friend about an ex of mine. I had said some really hurtful things to them, things that ended with them blocking me and cutting all contact. A younger version of me would’ve shrugged it off, but now it’s something that eats away at me. Not just that one person, but everyone I’ve pushed away because of anger and pride.

Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock. For so long I’ve been obsessed with my own pain that I never stopped to think about anyone else’s. I thought my suffering gave me a pass to be cold. But it didn’t. Everyone has their own battles. My childhood, my experiences, they don’t make me special. They just made me blind to the fact that everyone hurts in their own way.

I’m learning to set my story aside and actually listen. It’s not easy. But empathy is a skill, not a personality trait. Over the years I’ve lost so many people because I was too busy protecting my own ego to care about theirs. And when things get quiet, I miss every one of them.

The Loss

As time moves on, people drift. Maybe it’s just part of growing up. College, work, relationships, families. Everyone starts moving in different directions. People I used to trust with anything are now just names I scroll past. Nobody really checks in anymore. I tried reaching out, but eventually you realize that if you stop putting in the effort, the connection dies.

Last night, during a karaoke event in my Discord server, something clicked in my head. I looked around and saw this community of nearly 7,000 people, all brought together by something I built. They were laughing, singing, having fun. And there I was, watching from the outside. I created the bridge that connected all of them, yet somehow I was the one standing alone.

It’s bittersweet. I’m proud of them. Proud that something I made can bring people together. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel lost in it all. Still, if I can make their lives a little better, maybe that’s enough for now.

To anyone reading this, I hope you reach out. I know I’ve built walls. It’s not intentional. Life piles up. Work, stress, time, all of it chips away at connection until there’s barely anything left. I’m sorry for that. I really do miss the people I used to know.

I can’t change who I was, but I can decide who I am now. Maybe I won’t ever fully make up for the people I’ve lost, but I can stop repeating the same mistakes that drove them away. If nothing else, that’s a start.

Published 11:28 10/04/2025