It’s been almost a year since I was laid off from my role as Director of Professional Development at The College of Saint Rose, which sadly closed its doors in 2024. I’ve remained silent on the blog as I navigated a year full of loss:
(1) The loss of my job and the harsh realities of unemployment as a single parent with two children at home. (2) The loss of my future adoptive daughter, who I had been fostering. She had bonded strongly with our family, but when she was reunited with her biological family when a kinship match was unexpectedly identified.
(3) The loss of my beloved cat Arginine
(4) The final and hardest blow – the unexpected loss of my mother during the holidays.
2024 was without a doubt the hardest year of my life, and I am very much still recovering.
Those of you who know me and my story know that I am not one to wallow in self-pity for long. I certainly had (and continue to have) extremely difficult moments, and I allow myself to lean into them, feel, and release. Yet with each loss and subsequent transition, I take time to reflect. What can this experience teach me? How I can I grow from it? How can my experience support others in alignment with my life’s purpose?
I can be changed by what happens, but I refuse to be reduced by it.
The job loss has propelled me into an entirely new field that I never would have had the courage to explore if I had remained in my comfort zone. A recruiter contacted me about an incredibly unique opportunity, and I now find myself in the field of transit providing professional development to managers and executives within the organization. I feel empowered to be my most authentic self, I am valued, and the work sparks joy. I’m learning about a new field and applying my skills outside of STEM. I also see unique parallels between transit and forensics – both fields serve the community and can be fast-paced and high-stakes.
This time I didn’t waste any time falling into the trap of imposter syndrome, and I hit the ground running – enthusiastically decorating my office with ocean-themed décor (it has now been dubbed “The Beach House”) and incorporating play and playfulness into the workplace.
A mother is an attitude, not a biological relation.
The change in family composition with my teenage foster daughter’s unexpected departure was difficult to accept and process. Things had been going so well, and we had bonded as a family. My children were a grounding and motivating force for me as I sought new employment. For months, she remained in my home and under my care as we prepared for the upcoming move, which was heartbreaking. Despite all of this, we continue to make a concerted effort to remain in each other’s lives. We still have outings and sleepovers, and she’ll be joining us on our family vacation during February break. This is not what we wanted or expected, but we are making the most of the connection that we do have. It is my hope that she will always be in our lives, and it’s my pledge to always be there for her.
I still have a fire in my heart for fostering and hopefully adopting someday. In March I gained an extra foster care certification, this time for a therapeutic program that serves higher-needs children. I had my first respite placement in the fall, and I’m excited to keep working with these amazing children.
Grief and love are conjoined; you don't have one without the other.
Losing my mom has been a much tougher journey, and grief is a lifelong process. I still grieve my daughter Natasha, and it comforts me to think that she has my mom’s loving companionship now. The last thing I said to my mom was “Take care of my baby, she is going to love you,” and I know in my heart that both of their spirits are guiding me now.
It also brings me tremendous comfort and pride to know that my mom’s death impacted five other families very positively through the gift of organ donation. Our worst day was their best day, and when I am feeling my lowest, I open my heart to the love and joy they are feeling as they rejoice in her gift of life.
Every ending is creating and opening the space for an amazing new beginning.
I don’t know what 2025 will bring, but I know where I’ll be focusing my energy. I’ll be focusing on myself and maintaining my self-maintenance routine. By focusing on myself, I can ensure that I’ll have the bandwidth to be the best mom and professional that I can be. Being a mom and sharing my gifts with the world through my professional work sparks the most joy in my life. I recognize that I’ve been through a lot, and sometimes I struggle to maintain baseline. By focusing on myself through loving self-compassion and care, I’ll be able to refortify my foundation and maintain alignment with my purpose.
I encourage you reflect on what your primary focus should be for 2025. What fuels you and what sparks joy? What are the tools and resources that you need to make that happen?
Dr. Lori Ana Valentín is an analytical chemist who holds doctorate and master’s degrees in chemistry from Binghamton University as well as a bachelor of science in biochemistry from SUNY Fredonia. She has worked with individuals and teams across the globe.
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