Back in September, I wrote an essay on what it felt like to receive a termination packet from my then employer.  There are a few versions, all true, of what my life has been like since that day, 8 months and 18 days ago.

True Version 1.  I surprised my kids with a hamster.  Many days, I was able to do homework with them.  They read to me on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon while my French doors were open, sun shining in.  I got to pick them up from school more frequently, enjoy quality time with them.  The last one learned to ride a bike, and the four of us biked down to the beach regularly.  I ran and hiked, most every day. I danced, a lot.  In group classes and alone with Karma Raines, mastering songs I picked and choreography she created to process out stories I wanted to tell.  I lived my dancing dream.  I traveled to Havana, Cuba. Twice.  I fell in love with the city and with a man, though with the man the wonderful fall would have no destination.  I guided others to Cuba, all who fell in love with the city, too.  I made global friends, and connected my global friends together.  I trained with elite Olympic athletes, in Cuba and in Los Angeles.  I dated two international male models, both of whom are also quality human beings – one, in fact, the kindest guy I have ever met (see note about falling in love, above).  I took my kids to New York City for a week at Thanksgiving, to Denver for a week at Christmas.  I wrote beautiful essays and poems and poignant short stories and touching pieces of a screen play.  I went to the Women’s March in DC with an amazing group of women, and we were hosted by my favorite Bethesda based family and closest friends.  I marched with over a million people who believe in kindness and goodness and equality and the right thing.  I took Kai back to New York City and DC with me to participate in the last Lauren Beam Foundation 5k and to speak at Georgetown University, let him see all of DC in a day and my favorite college campus (now his, too).  I had lunch dates and mid-day dates and some morning dates. I took Sasha to get her ears pierced and see an astronaut speak.  I took Gemma to get her ears pierced and a surprise trip to her favorite place, PetSmart. I had coffee with friends.  I practiced my Spanish.  I wrote love notes in Spanish.  I watched a few mid-day movies.  I trained at an elite performance training center with Mariana Reis and laughed as proved our collective toughness.  I crawled back into bed on rainy mornings and stayed there until 1pm.  I took naps.  I baked my special recipe cookies, and grilled steaks for lunch.  I paid off a good chunk of my debt and my credit score rose to literally near perfect.  I sat on my stoop and got to know my neighbors. I had lunch on my stoop and saw my favorite bougainvillea bush blossom.  I volunteered in each child’s class and chaperoned field trips and “Olympic Day” and “Field Day.” I cheered 200 kids on as they each did the long jump, some for the first time, I made them each feel good about their individual accomplishments.  I coached 7-8 year olds on a basketball team that won as many games as we lost, and called each and every player “Sweetie” from the sideline and was convinced to coach again the first time one of them called me “Coach.”  I went to pool parties and dance parties and house parties and had girls’ nights out and met cute guys and went out with them.  I fell in like with a few of them. I was surprised with good chemistry when I was least expecting it.  I networked and made new, amazing friends and professional contacts and nourished existing professional relationships and felt my world grow.  I impressed people.  I did all the things I loved doing when I was working, but just got to do more of everything.  A friend told me I lived the life people dreamed of, and I said I was certain, at least, that I lived the life that I dreamed of.  I laughed, I smiled, I felt grateful and happy and proud and content.

True Version 2.  I cried.  I dropped my kids off at school and rushed out so no one would see me in sweats, without anywhere to go.  I felt lost, unneeded.  I tried to write and had writer’s block.  I cried while I drove to dance class.  I cried before I picked my kids up from school.  I felt exhausted.  I looked in to parties I was supposed to enter and coached myself in, not wanting to enter.  I looked at networking events I planned to attend and coached myself in, not wanting to talk to anyone.  I cried to Karma before a few dance classes.  I cried to Kristina Fredericks, a friend in Los Angeles that I’ve grown closer with this year.  I cried to Harry Packman, a friend in New York that I met 16 years ago, over the phone while stuck in traffic on the 405.  I cried to my sister.  I cried to my mom.  I cried to Mariana Reis, my closest friend in Los Angeles.  I cried to my dad while sitting in my car looking at the beach, full of fog. I cried to my ex-husband. I cried to Dianne Jefferies, a personal friend and professional mentor.  I cried to a career coach.  I cried to a spiritual reader.  My kids saw me cry (for lots of different reasons).  I thought of what I would do if I could not find a job and I ran out of money – what good would my good credit do if I didn’t have income?  I imagined having to sell my Brooklyn condo – my only asset – and cried.  I imagined having to move out of my house in Los Angeles – to where? – and cried.  I heard myself say “I moved to Los Angeles for my job,” and thought that I no longer had that job or any job, and I felt sad, angry, confused, stumped.  I heard a clock ticking constantly.  I spent all my energy coaching myself not to listen to that clock, that ticking.  I yelled at my kids because I couldn’t stop the ticking.  I wanted to give up.  On my most defeating days, I felt I was failing as a parent.  My daughters wouldn’t stop fighting; my son would be unforgiving to himself.  I wanted more energy to be better for them but I couldn’t find it.  A drunk driver side swiped my car in the middle of the night and tore off the panel of the driver side front and back doors, shattered the driver side mirror, tore apart the bumper.  I woke up to the damage, not having heard it happen as I slept, and realized my deductible was way too much, more than I could afford to pay and, without evidence of who did it, my car insurance would go up an even more godly amount than it already has in LA.  A man I went out with asked me what I was looking for from him, and I said just what we had going on – I wasn’t thinking ahead of that – and he told me I was attractive and sexy and had amazing energy and he was attracted to my composure and humor and he loved that I had my life together and knew myself, but he could not offer the same.  I thought, he must be in a very sad spot if this unemployed, unlucky woman driving a literally taped up Prius with a finite and near ending amount of money has it more together than him – I don’t want him.  I cried at a band performance at my kids’ school in front of 200 parents, right after receiving bad news and not being able to keep my composure.  A father patted my back, though I didn’t see through the tears who it was or even if I knew him.  I wanted to curse the universe.  I just wanted to curse.  I felt like the universe was seeing what it took to take the positive, the optimism out of me, and I felt like it succeeded – like it found my limit.  I cried for mercy, for a f***ing break.

True Version 3.  The day after I received my termination packet, I worked on my resume.  I got feedback from a few people, including dear friends Kate Stillman in Maryland (my first NYC roommate and best roommate ever) and Laura Wesley Al-Wir in Jordan (my dear and brilliant and kind college friend).  I then made about 150 versions of my resume, before getting a couple versions that felt authentically me.  I spoke to recruiters and talent placement specialists and friends and career coaches, and created a list of things I wanted in my next career opportunity.  I wanted to be in Los Angeles, I wanted to be connected to sports and events and entertainment, I wanted to be on the property or fan side, not on the brand side.  I wanted to be with a company purposely placed in Los Angeles, with a global reach, at the front end of its growth.  I wanted to be with a company that values strong female leadership, and my leadership qualities and team oriented attitude.  I explored an opportunity with a sports league in LA and became one of the final two candidates for a dream job, only to have the search be put on indefinite pause as the entity went through its own transition after its CEO resigned.  I was offered a position with a digital media company, only to have the parent company decide the position should be based in NYC, not LA.  I was offered a position with a family of brands whose parent company wanted to reinvigorate each of them, only to have the person I was replacing decide not to retire.  I applied to 57 more positions that offered at least some of the opportunity I was looking for, had conversations with an additional 16 companies.  I was told over and over and over and over that I was over-qualified, that they didn’t have the budget for me, that they were looking for someone with less experience, that I was qualified to take the person’s job I was speaking to and they would keep me in mind if they heard of anything.  I introduced myself to more than 90 colleagues in the industry, of all levels and all titles. I had phone calls (for those that know me, this means I SPOKE ON THE PHONE). I sent cold emails, more and more of which were responded to and I made positive impressions on all that I met.  I gained even more confidence and more certainty as each day went by.  I actually grew to like phone calls, though I still preferred in person meetings.  I believed in what I could offer, and I believed the right company would come into my path in time.  When I caught myself crying for mercy, I found myself saying “F*** that, you can’t take the positive out of me.  You can’t kill my optimism.  I’m not lying down – this is on me and I can make this work out.”

True Version 4.  From Christmas until today, I had growing anxiety.  I was surprised at how hard it was to get interviews, let alone a job.  And surprised at how few opportunities for which I wasn’t over-qualified were coming up.  I remembered saying to my financial advisor earlier in 2016, “I’m so employable, I’m not worried about ever having to find work.”  Why did I say that?  The anxiety grew as opportunities that I found and offers that were made fell through.  And here is the truest version of these past months:  I made things happen.  I woke up with anxiety every morning (I had never known what anxiety felt like, less a few brief weeks in 2006 when I found what turned out to be a benign lump in my breast).  Some, but not all mornings, I spent some time wallowing in the anxiety and anger for a few minutes.  Then, I told myself to conquer the day and turn it into something.  So I would.  I’d get ready for meetings, some of which I was excited for, others I felt defeated about while getting ready.  But I’d get ready no matter– I’d pick out the right dress or outfit, I’d do my hair, I’d do my makeup, and, most importantly, I’d do my mind.  I would coach myself into the positive mindset in which I feel most comfortable.  Sometimes I’d be ready and feel my best self before I walked out my door.  Sometimes, I wouldn’t be ready until I arrived at the meeting, I wouldn’t be the Nikki I knew and liked best until the moment I shook someone’s hand and said, “Hi, I’m Nikki Hart, so nice to meet you.”  I talked and listened and laughed and connected with people. Always, I left each meeting feeling better than when I woke up.  I gained hope and remembered my belief in myself as each minute of each day went by.  Each time I cried, as detailed in True Version 2, it was in the morning, except for the breakdown at my kids school, when the potential friend or stranger patted my back, after receiving stunningly bad news at exactly 5:47pm.  Otherwise, it was never late afternoon, never after dinner.  By then – because I had met people, called people, followed up with people, wrote about what next steps I could take, made connections, followed advice, talked to people, assessed what I wanted, practiced perseverance and honesty –I felt better each day, with this one exception.  Because I would sweat and run off the anxiety; because I would dance and celebrate my Body and my Self and my Mind; because I would push myself physically and emotionally, I always felt better.  I felt myself.  And I would lay down each night to sleep and I would visualize confidence and capability and strength and poise pulsing through my body, and I would sleep peacefully and contently, having Fallen In Love with myself again that day.

The Result of These True Versions:  While I was in DC for the Women’s March in January, I told a magical spirit and my close friend Laura Allen that I thought things would come together for me professionally in April – that in Spring the seeds I had been planting would be able to grow.  On April 19^th, while at a sports industry conference that I paid a good chunk of money to attend, I found out that the third offer with the footwear brand had been, effectively, reneged.  I was surrounding by 1950 men and 50 women that I was trying to impress when I found out, and I got teary eyed.  I sat in a thankfully dark room while people were focused on the presenting panel of men and let tears run down my face for 8 minutes.  I texted a few friends that wouldn’t tell me it was going to be okay, but who would tell me “WTF, that sucks!”  Tears dripped from my face onto the black dress I was wearing.  Then, I said to myself, “Nikki, you found out this while you are here, at this conference, for a reason.  You aren’t home alone.  You are here, surrounded by people in the industry you have always been and want to be more directly a part of.  You know more people than you thought you did, you can meet even more.  Don’t waste your time on tears or lamenting an opportunity that you felt you needed more than you felt you wanted.  Wipe your tears away and do what you want and need to do here – talk to people and create an opportunity for yourself.”  So I did that.  Five minutes later I saw a woman I know, Vanessa Shay, who I know through my involvement in Women in Sports and Events and works for AEG – a worldwide sports and entertainment presenter, with ownership interest in an immense number of sport entities and venues – and who knew some of my story.  She offered to introduce me to AEG’s General Counsel, a well-liked man across the industry (and awesome).  Later that night, at the happiest happy hour I’ve ever attended, with my dear friend and former NFL colleague Christine Mills by my side, I chatted with many people – new and old contacts alike. I was reminded that my successful career was successful because of me, and hadn’t evaporated with my previous job or the lost opportunities.  My friend and former President of a NFL team told me about his “gap year”, and we joked about the joys of “Minding the Gap.”  I was reminded of my favorite city and that in this industry and as careers go on, things happen! I wasn’t the first one experiencing a gap year nor will I be the last one (one reason I am writing this so candidly).  I spoke to a man George Pappas who I felt I knew from somewhere though we had never worked together.  Turns out, he went to my rival high school and to prom with a group that included my dearest friend, Marisa Arbanas.  He treated me like the old friend I should have been but technically wasn’t.  (I suspect he treats everyone this way, which is part of his immense charm.)  He also works at AEG and made the same offer of introduction.  Later that week, George introduced me to the AEG GC and we had a phone call set up for 3 weeks later.

Meanwhile, during that 3 week interim, I found an opportunity at a digital ticketing and fan engagement company, AXS, formed through a joint venture between AEG and a digital partner.  They were looking for someone much more junior, but based off what they needed and what I knew about their goals and business, I knew it could be a bigger role.  Though they were at the near end of their interview process and likely about to make a hire, I sent my resume in, wrote directly to AXS’s GC, and Vanessa kindly put in a good word for me, as well. I got a phone interview, then an in person interview, and then a few more.  Through these interviews, we explored all I could offer to the company, despite not having the background they originally envisioned.  I authentically spoke with the hope that there was value in bringing in someone with more experience than they originally imagined, and that I was that person and could be an asset worth the money. It was an opportunity for me to both use my experience and grow and learn, in equal parts, in the industry in which I feel at home.  As I waited to hear if I succeeded, I was scared to hold my breath – other opportunities had slipped away even after an offer was made. Even if they liked me, I knew the role wasn’t originally budgeted for me. I felt helpless just waiting, but what more could I do?  I thought back to law school, when I didn’t have time to study (why I didn’t have time back when I had no kids and no full time job, who knows – but likely because I was living the True Version 1 version of my law school days), and I would sleep with my notes under my pillow.  This led to many aced tests.  So, I took my wrist bands, given in lieu of a visitor pass, from each AXS interview and slept with them under my pillow for the four more days I waited.  On Friday May 26^th, I officially found out that I convinced them it was a good fit for us both and had the offer I wanted.[1]  I’m sure the sleeping-with-wrist-bands-under-my-pillow contributed, but I know I wouldn’t have been able to do secure this opportunity – a really, really good one – without all the conversations or help I had from others.

I also would not have been able to do this without the opportunities that were at my fingertips that fell through.  I would not have been able to do this without the 57 opportunities I applied to, without the 16 additional companies I talked to.  I would not have been able to do this had I not spoke to nearly 100 new people in sports, entertainment and events and peripheral industries that I hadn’t spoken to before September 12^th, at least in any meaningful way, not to mention the hundreds of friends I spoke to that helped me connect to these 100 new people.  I would not have been able to do this if I didn’t cry silently and hopefully invisibly for just a few minutes on the same day I spoke to George and Vanessa.

I would not have been able to do this without True Version 1, True Version 2, True Version 3, or True Version 4 of the last 8 months and 19 days.  I wouldn’t have been able to do this without Me, and without the conviction of knowing what I was looking for even though that conviction was hard earned and tested in moments.  I am so grateful for all those truths, all those moments of pleasure and pain, sometimes coexisting at once, that led me here, to this job, a job that checks off so many of those qualities I centered my energy into over eight months ago. I’m so grateful to be right where I want to be.

Here’s to the next chapter.  But first, off to have a glass of wine to celebrate with a couple of those friends that I laughed, cried, cursed, cheered, traveled, and danced with in all my true versions.

************************************************************************************

[1] There is a little more to this story that occurred at 5:47pm on May 30^th, leading to the infamous breakdown at my kids’ school when the unknown father patted my back as I cried and tried, unsuccessfully, to find composure.  The details of this chapter will be saved for another story, another time (watch for future Ted Talks!).