COVID You Son of a Richard
August 2020. As a COVID graduate, I was among the many recipents of gauranteed sour nothings. Broken promises of high paying salaries, endless job offers, and countless aspirations were at the finish line of my scholastic career. I befriended the notorious yet familiar companion–self-doubt and her twin unexpectancy.
For nearly all my life, I was indebted to a consistent routine, or glorified to-do list of planning my school year. It ranged from doing homework, passing my classes, scheduling for the next semester, breaks/holidays, a mother who made her kids read and do math equations in the summer, and repeating the exact same process for the next 13-15 years.
College was no different.
Through this routine I developed a sense of value in being productive (a dangerous combination as you will realize later on). To me, it was something so invigorating and fulfilling knowing that dedication, determination, and discipline can reap sweet rewards out of a challenging and psychotic routine. Also, let’s talk about working 3-4 jobs over a span of 4 years while in school.
In retrospect, it seems SO unbelievable and dare I say insane as I can barely keep up with the one job I currently have, like come on! Them 24 hours way back when ain’t the same 24 I got tuhday!! But then, that fateful day happens when everything you did to get you one step closer to the stage makes sense.
It’s something about imagining that special day of turning your tassle and finally hearing “congratulations c/o of (insert your year), you did it!”.
That day represents 4 years (others 5+, shoutout to the super seniors) of hard freaking work, prayers, curses, laughs, love, sadness, embarrassment, and pride. A day that encapsulates a holistic intoxicated feeling that no drug can mimick. However, my day didn’t quite embody that vision.
I went to a Christian school. Full stop. School administrators told us they were gonna pray COVID away and everything would return to normal…Ain’t that the stupidest shit you’ve ever read in your life?? Imagine hearing it. I almost swiveled my entire sternocleidomastoid off to keep from having an Abbott Elementary, Gregory Eddie, breaking the 4th wall moment with imaginary cameras from happening…cuz bish whet??? See, that’s when we use that word 😉!
The anticipation of finally walking across the stage after 4 long years of grueling dedication, tears of frustration, headaches of incompetence and a school that would make anyone want to jump off the highest cliff known to man and beast was shattered within a week’s time. March 13, 2020. Yup, the greedy bastard son of a d**k (we don’t use the b word around these parts when it comes female/woman driven insults….unless called for 🤭) COVID, came in like a klepto in the afternoon on a Wednesday and completly changed the trajectory of life as we know it.
Imagine coming back from spring break only to be told “pack it up buddy, folks are dying and we can’t keep y’all here”. My school administrators didn’t really say that but I’m writing so ya know…gotta give the people what they want.
HOWEVER!
I went to a Christian school.
Full stop.
School administrators told us they were gonna pray COVID away and everything would return to normal by May…as in two months from that date…..60 days…60 nights….1440 hours. Now THAT, ya can’t make up!
Ain’t that the stupidest shit you’ve ever read in your life?? Imagine hearing it. The level of restraint it took for me not to swivel my entire sternocleidomastoid off and fling my brain out to keep from having an Abbott Elementary, Gregory Eddie, breaking the 4th wall moment with imaginary cameras from happening…cuz bish whet??? See, that’s when we use that word 😉!
Though my class was fortunate enough to receive a graduation ceremony, within compliance of COVID regulations, it didn’t feel the same.
It wasn’t what I had experienced nor imagined as a little girl to young adult. Waiting for the celebratory moment to finally hear screams, shouts, and banned blow horns from family and friends, tears of joy streaming down faces, and to finally experience something that wasn’t just an accomplishment attained by myself, but a testament and reflection of others who poured life into me through it all. But then the unexpected happened.
When I walked across the stage with my Bachelor’s of Science in Accounting from my school, it wasn’t just the end of school but the epilogue of my character arc transformation–a chapter that held some of my most difficult, embarrassing, healing, and transformative moments.
The reason why I say my Master’s degree chapter lasted 5 years was not due to hard courses, but a journey filled with Psalm-esque qualities. You see, isolation and silence amplifies the 808 of hidden emotions, insecurities and fears that were muffled by academic chaos, scholastic inibreation, and Dean’s List intoxication, which distracted and blinded me from my suppressed issues waiting to be medicated.
🎓Grad School Wasn’t a Straight Line
If I may be frank for a moment, I would say that the experiences of being a young black girl who was, and may still slightly be, a people pleaser who’s goal in life was to overachieve and perform a trapeze act of appeasing other’s expectations came to a devasting crash when I no longer had my safety net of consistency and routine.
It became a “if I do this, then this will happen” equation. Those who promised me job offers, excelling in my summer internships, comrades echoing gauranteed job positions, my life planned out as I had imagined, was all but a withered fantasy. Jobless, fearful, insecure, self-depleted, and so many other adjectives to describe a destroyed esteem had produced a side of myself I had no idea was hiding. A side of me that needed to finally break free. Unworthy, deficient, superfluous, a waste, and a failure were the words that I internalized during that time in my life.
I felt like a robot that had short-circuted and couldn’t recalibrate itself to the motherboard (idk computer science, hopefully that shit made sense though).
I doubted myself, my intellect, creativity, strength, and overall being because of…myself. From 2021-2022 I had gone through horrible and I mean WHORE-UH-BULL jobs, grand theft auto, 50-70+ “we regret to inform you” job announcements, a failed attempt at a master’s program, and a bit of depression. Fear consumed my every being, decision-making and thinking of anticipating mistakes.
I was so used to striving to be the best friend, sister, daughter that I hadn’t been the best self to me. I was judgemental, hurtful, impatient and hard on myself that I hadn’t realized the damage it had done on my psyche and self-esteem. Ya girl was burnt the heck out! But through necessity breeds creativity. That’s where journaling my feelings came into play.
For the past 5 years, I used writing as a tool to safeguard my emotions and write out how I felt through creativity. I wanted to escape and leave my idlemindedness by developing a hobby into a lifestyle. It during those sessions that I discovered the immense amount of pressure I had placed on myself. I had intellect, kindness, love, patience, determination, and discipline. But I didn’t have grace, I still don’t in so many capacities but I’m working on it!
📉 Productivity ≠ Worth
At my lowest, I believed my only value came from output. If I didn’t check every box or finish every task ahead of time, I didn’t deserve rest—or patience.
But I’ve come to realize: you are not your to-do list. Your worth is not determined by how early you log in, how many emails you answer, how many times you mess up, how many balls you knock out of the park. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is pause. Take a break. Say, “I’m struggling.”
My job search finally came to halt when I recieved an update from the 71st job I had applied for during the fall of 2021. I had forgotten about it and the company wanted to have an interview with me. Jaded by so much rejection I figured, “what’s the worst that could happen? Another no added to my roster?”. I took the interview, answered the scenarios to the best of my ability and submitted the final test to the interviewers.
Months had passed and I figured they had forgotten me and it was time to move onto my dead end job at my alma mater. It wasn’t until August 2022 that I recieved a call from the interviewer.
I got the job.
After months of defeat, fight and perserverance I finally landed the job I am have been working in for the past 2.5 years and I’ve loved it thus far. It came with so many perks like working from home but let me NOT open that wound back up again….it’s TEW dern soon.
But still, God is faithful.
Once I finally got the hang of my job I gave it another go at my Master’s degree and enrolled in Athens State University (Go bears!) in the fall of 2023. It wasn’t easy at ALL and having dropped out of school the first time and relearning the routine it felt like melted putty in my hand. If I could equate it, I finally understood how my grandmothers felt when they needed to log into Netflix or sign into wifi. I felt like a boomer foreal y’all.
There were nights I stayed up staring at tax law until my eyes blurred, questioning whether I was even smart enough to be there. I juggled work and classes, often submitting assignments at the last minute, feeling like everyone else had it together except me.
While others seemed to thrive, I felt like I was just trying to survive. The pressure to perform made even little mistakes feel like major failures. But again, patience and grace were words I had to remember. I had to eliminate the negative self-talk each semester and enjoy life for what it was, unpredictable. Through that lens I accepted whatever was thrown at me regardless of hardwork or softwork.
But on that day of 3 May 2025 when I walked across the stage with my Master of Accountancy degree from Athens State University, it wasn’t just the end of school—it was the close of a chapter to my evolution– a resolution that revealed some of my most heartbreaking, character molding, healing, and precious snapshots that shaped me into who I am today. Did I mention that I looked like Simone Biles with all my cords and sashes around my neck???
😳 The Embarrassing Work Moments That Shook Me
Let’s just say… I’ve had my fair share of face-palm moments at work. From addressing the wrong person in the email, stumbling over my words with umms and throat tightening moments (classic) to completely miscommunicating with a client during a data request period—I had times where I wanted to crawl under my desk and disappear.
Ironically, I am a HUGE yapper. But when it comes to public speaking, it makes my heart twerk in directions that shockingly, yet thankfully, don’t result in a Quentin Tarantino horror film of a leapt out heart from chest scene.
It didn’t help that I’d internalize these mistakes. I’d spiral, convincing myself I didn’t belong in this profession or that I’d never be taken seriously–mind you off a few mistakes and mishaps. It also didn’t help much when I first came onto the team and acheived so many great 10 for 10 handstands on the balancing beam of new hire and veteran and receiving high awards.
Once new management came around and a comprehensive topic came about I was reinacting a porky pig interpretation of stumbling over words and getting anxious. There’s nothing worse than f**king up in front of new people and wanting so desperately to say “hey but you should’ve seen me on my LAST job!! Now that, that I killed!!” am I right?
But the real shift came with new management. My previous manager was excellent in straight to the point style and was very easy going; which is why I believe people are planted in your life at the right time for the right moment. Suddenly, I wasn’t just being evaluated—I was being educated. I’ve had the blessing in having leaders who saw potential in me even when I couldn’t.
Their belief in my ability helped silence some of the inner critic that had been shouting at me for years. I have individuals who instruct, reinforce it’s okay to make mistakes and give myself grace when I want to feed myself punishment.
💭 Weight Insecurity & Returning to the Office
Another silent battle I faced was my body image. Returning to the office after regular telework wasn’t just about trading pajamas for slacks—it was stepping back into a space where my work-life balance crumbled right before my eyes. As a plus size girly, you criticize yourself harsher than any runway model coach ever will.
I like to have control over my life and had strived to be the best version of myself everyday. I had one hour of physical fitness given to me and was eating the healthiest I ever had. But all that came crashing down in February of this year and I gotta say…it was and still is ROUGH.
Weight insecurity made every hallway walk feel like a spotlight moment. I felt like my body was a billboard for failure, even though no one said anything. I dreaded mirrors in bathroom stalls, finding flattering clothing everyday that wouldnt roll up and roll down as I walked to my office, being cognizant of wether my gut was showing or my muffin top was oozing out of my pants under my radar.
It drained my spirit.
However, one of the encouraging blessings, and fortunate unfortunate privileges, in life is having a doctor that not only looks like, but listens to you. She is the absolute best and has guided me each step. of the way to provide a holistic medicinal approach for me to achieve my best self and I am forever grateful for that connection.
🇰🇷 The South Korea Leap: Scared but Ready
Somewhere in all this chaos, something inside me whispered: “What if there’s more?”
So I did something terrifying. I applied for a position in South Korea.
Not because I had everything figured out. Not because I felt brave. But because I knew I needed change.
I had to reframe my mindset from I won’t get it because I’m not good enough, to God didn’t want me to be in this area right now.
As I tussled back and forth between applying and ignoring the announcement I figured “what’s the worst that could happen? They might say no and I move on with my life”.
With the help of upper management, advice sessions and such, I submitted my updated resume, most sacred prayer, let out a heavy sigh of relief, and closed my laptop for the day.
A month had passed and I recieved a phone call from the director in the pacific region of my Agency, who had news to share about the announcement. He summarized that their team was looking for applicants who wanted to come to Korea and work for their department. After much consideration they chose their applicants.
The following words from the director left me dumbfounded,
“we’d like to have you on our team“.
In August, I’ll be leaving the familiar behind and stepping into a whole new world. I’m scared. I have no idea what the future will look like. But I’m also excited beyond words—to grow, to explore, and to become someone I haven’t even met yet.
🧡 Final Thoughts
This journey wasn’t linear. It wasn’t glamorous. It was messy, raw, emotional, and real.
I’ve cried in office bathrooms, stared at unfinished assignments in panic, and doubted my worth more times than I’d like to admit.
But I also got my degree. I showed up for myself. And I dared to dream of more.
I’ll be going from “hey y’all” to “Annyeonghaseyo (안녕하세요)” which means hello in Korean😉.
Between my subtle country accent and me barely knowing how to English half the dern time, I am intrigued to see how bilinguini I’ll be in the coming months!
If you’re feeling behind or unsure, just know: you’re not broken. You’re becoming.
Here’s to new chapters, hard-earned victories, and trusting that something beautiful is waiting on the other side of fear.
