Every test is an echo of an old story asking to be rewritten. This time, I chose love, strength, and truth. Let me elaborate.

So – I’m back at my old job! And thank God for that.

I had been genuinely excited to start this new role, one that seemed to arrive in my life effortlessly — almost divinely orchestrated as I mentioned in the previous post. Before starting, I gave myself a week to wrap up at my current job. My boss was sad to see me go but assured me that our connection had evolved into a genuine friendship and that his door would always be open. The feeling was mutual.

In the days leading up to the new role, the new boss was emailing enthusiastically — arranging things for my arrival and making me feel valued and wanted. But I’m someone who pays close attention, not just to what people say or do, but to the energy behind their words. And within the first couple of days, I could sense that we were polar opposites in our ways of being.

I’m comfortable owning my value. She wasn’t.

One moment she praised me for knowing how to charge for my worth; the next, she told me no one would pay those rates — despite six years of experience proving otherwise. Her behaviour and words were often incongruent, and before long, I realized something deeper: she was an exact replica of my aunt — the same two-faced energy, the same subtle put-downs, the same way of questioning my worth.

But this time, I was different.

I wasn’t the little girl who once believed those things. I remained steady in my self-worth and inner authority. By the end of the first week, I knew I wasn’t going to stay.

Come Monday, I walked in and told her it wasn’t going to work. She did a complete 180 — suddenly cold, shaming, and acting like she held the moral high ground. I stayed polite and walked away.

Then I called my old boss. I told him what had happened and that I wanted to come back. He laughed and said he hadn’t deleted any of my accounts or access — and that I hadn’t even packed away my work equipment. I went home, logged in, and it felt as if I’d never really left. As we ended the call, he said: “Welcome home.” Somehow we both knew that I would be back.

The next morning, I woke up to an email from that toxic woman, demanding I repay the one week’s wages she had transferred over the weekend. I responded firmly, listing everything I had done for her business that week, making it clear I owed her nothing. There was a bit of back and forth and in the end, I called out her bullying and stood my ground. That was the end of it.

And here’s what I’m proud of — not once did I blame myself, question how I had “manifested” this, or shame myself for leaving my old job in the first place. I didn’t guilt-trip myself for not making the new one work either.

Instead, I saw the entire experience as a gift — a mirror that allowed me to rewrite an old traumatic imprint from childhood.

After my mother’s death, my aunt took me in. To the outside world, she appeared loving. Behind closed doors, she eroded my sense of self-worth — projecting her insecurities onto me, blaming me for everything, and belittling me whenever she could. I longed for the safety and love of my father, and that early wound left a deep imprint in my psyche.

So when I stood up to this new boss, it was like reclaiming my power from that old story. Calling my old boss and expressing what I needed was me acknowledging my own worth and choosing safety and love for myself. It was a complete rewrite of that childhood imprint.

This time, I noticed something different: how strong my self-concept has become. I didn’t take her attacks personally. I even felt compassion for her — but I also stood firm.

Because compassion doesn’t mean tolerating mistreatment.
It means seeing clearly while holding your ground.

It’s not all “love and light” — sometimes, love looks like putting people in their place with clarity and dignity.

So instead of complaining or blaming the universe, I see beauty in the whole situation. It revealed how far I’ve come. I know my worth now — and I’m back in a workplace that sees and values it too. Opportunities were waiting for me the moment I returned.

This experience didn’t break me.
It showed me how strong I’ve always been.

Even my aunt couldn’t break me — but standing up to that woman allowed something in me to finally feel redeemed.
It was like standing up to my aunt and saying,
“I know my worth now — and I won’t let anyone take it from me again.”

As I reflect on it all, I can see how perfectly orchestrated the entire situation was — not as punishment, but as initiation.

This was life’s way of showing me that the very thing which once wounded me could now no longer touch me. That I could walk through a familiar pattern and respond from power, not pain.

And the most beautiful part? I didn’t have to make it happen.

The entire sequence — the new job, the mirror it offered, the return to my old workplace — unfolded on its own. I didn’t need to control it or “manifest” it. I simply stayed true to my inner guidance, and life rearranged itself accordingly.

This is what surrender really is: not passivity, but alignment with who you are.
Not collapse, but trust.
A deep knowing that the Divine knows what we need before we do — and sometimes, it uses contrast to remind us who we’ve become.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” — Romans 8:28

So yes, I’m back at my old job — but really, I’ve come home to myself.