Penance

 

In the heart of every city, there are stories that go untold, tales of silent struggles and quiet triumphs. My journey is one such story, woven through the realm of heartbreak, resilience, and relentless pursuit of purpose. After all, I made a promise, and I intend to honor it.

It's a tale of transformation, of rising from the ashes of despair to find a mission worth living for. This is the story of how I became the person I am today, an HR professional dedicated to making a difference. A person who's focused on altruism and vocalizing those with no voice or little value to society...

In the crushing silence of my room, I found my new religion. They say that rebirth comes through pain, and perhaps that was what drove me to the gym every morning at dawn. It was there, in the clanging of weights and the rhythm of my own breath, that I punished myself for a heartbreak that shattered me into a million pieces. After all, she lost faith in me after I was unemployed for a year. My once trademark charm transformed into self hatred after I could no longer keep myself busy. Everyone lost faith in me after the breakup. They saw a man stripped of his dignity, a man who had nothing left but his anguish and self reflection.

The questions never ceased. “Did you get a job yet?” became a haunting refrain, echoing in every interaction. It drove me further into solitude, where the only company I kept was my own relentless drive. My closest comrades became my most feared as the joy of learning how to drive became the sound of tires, radio, and Joy Division rather than passionate conversations. Those closest saw behind the veil and knew I needed to pursue intellectual activity otherwise, I would fade away into unemployment abyss...

I grew a thick beard, a shield against the world that had turned its back on me. My body transformed through the intense rigor of my routine, sculpted into a six-pack as if carving out the pain with each grueling session. Their voices and questions about my unemployment echoed and burrowed onto my brain...The man hoping to pass his lessons learned from a strange country faded...

Isolation became my fortress. In the depths of that solitude, I turned my obsessive tendencies toward a singular purpose. I locked myself away, pouring over data, conducting SWOT analyses of HR talent in Iraq with a fervor that bordered on madness. I swore an oath to become the best, to help people find jobs and defend them with a passion that no one had ever shown me during that bleak year of unemployment amidst the COVID pandemic. I promised to voice the voiceless and focus my energy towards helping those who weren't seen as I wasn't one day...

And so, I became a workaholic. I chased money and status with a single-minded intensity, climbing the ladder of success until I was managing thirteen people within three years—a record. Their livelihoods, their futures, and their career progression rested on my shoulders. I poured everything into them, driven by the ghosts of bad managers who had hated me, fought me, and bullied me. I swore I would be different, that no one under my wing would suffer as I had. No one would need to understand the sheer volume of sacrifice needed...

But in that climb, I lost pieces of myself. Management became a suffocating shroud, draining my passion. The responsibility of guiding others weighed heavy, and the higher I climbed, the lonelier it became. The best poker face, they say, is the least expected. I wore mine with grim determination, masking the vulnerability that lay beneath. I couldn’t afford to look weak; too many eyes looked up to me, expecting strength and guidance. I focused on doing what I do best; making sure I take care of people and help them be what I couldn't back then...

Yet, the loneliness was relentless. Every decision, every act of leadership, came at a personal cost...I had more things to worry about...The irony of my success was that it demanded a part of my soul. I became who I am today not just through dedication and hard work, but because of the very adversities that had once sought to destroy me. Bad managers who had relished in my struggles became the fuel for my resolve. Their hatred forged my mission: to ensure that everyone under my care would be shielder from the pain I endured. 

After all, I didn't need to be defamed, to have my family harassed, to be accused of atrocities. I didn't need to keep a smile while hearing everyone in a conference talk horrible accusations and defamations against me...

If I had found a job back then, she might still be here. That thought lingers, a constant reminder of the stakes that come with my drive. 

In the end, my success is my penance and is not just a story of transformation.

I made a promise, and I will follow it to the end...