Ten words or fewer

Tech sent out a survey to its alums today. The topic:

Can you tell your life story in 10 words or less?

My first thought was "Can you tell your life story in 10 words or FEWER?" but I understood what they were trying to ask. So, I thought about it. And then I thought more about it. I worried with the words. How could I tell my life in ten words or fewer?

I'm at the point in my life where I feel rejected by every community I've been a part of. I recognize that isn't the case, but it really feels that way. I worked with the UPA for years and told them they needed to redo their systems. When they chose to redo their membership systems, they didn't do an open call for proposals, and I wasn't asked to offer opinions. I felt rejected from that community.

The Hacker Dojo, I don't even want to talk about how fantastically abused I feel from that relationship.

Twitter turned out to be an awful experience. I really thought the group I was in was going to become a group of lifetime friends. Instead it was a giant backstab and complete rejection from people I thought were friends.

At each point, I felt my world shrink a little bit. The rejections of major parts of my life hurt more and more each time they arrived. I retreated into myself more and more as the rejections kept piling up.

So, can I tell you my life story in 10 words or fewer?

Yes.

She thought she failed miserably. In reality, she mostly succeeded.

See, the more those parts of my life fall away, the more I realize what the world is, the more I can accept it for what it is. I built (with help!) the rostering system the UPA used for 8 years. EIGHT. YEARS. I co-founded the Hacker Dojo. It is thriving and becoming a Silicon Valley institution. I helped build a great team at Twitter: I fought for each of the members on the team at Twitter, not one of that team would have their jobs there if I hadn't fought for them. It's a great team.

The things I built exist after me, and they are great things. I'm not a part of those things, but they are still awesome.

They are awesome because of me.

So, yeah. Though I feel I failed miserably, in reality, I mostly succeeded.

And that's something.