Not Meant to Be

“You know what. I quit.”

The moment I uttered those words, I felt free for about thirty seconds, then the room erupted into chaos.

Now, let’s back up for a moment so I can explain how I got to this point. You see, I’m the only daughter and youngest of four siblings of my father who once owned this big tech company. He unfortunately passed. Originally, they planned for me to get a house and college fund, and for my three older brothers to each get a share of the company.

All fine and dandy since the company raised and taught them, however when dad died, they disappeared. No notes, not anything to go by. I was the only one of us that appeared at the funeral and subsequent reading. Since that was the case, I got the company. Me, the one child of my father, with no idea how to even run a company.

It's been a year now, and even with the so-called help of my dad’s old advisors, it has been an absolute hell. Why didn’t they take the company? Apparently, they were only supposed to help settle these issues before their early retirement. That obviously hasn’t been the case, since unlike my brothers, I had and still don’t have any clue about what I’m doing.

It’s frustrating for everyone involved. Especially for me, not just because of my inexperience but, most only know me by my last name, not bothering to even ask for my first name. It gets so impersonal and grating sometimes, like I don't have my own true identity. To almost everyone, I’m just my father’s daughter, nothing else.

At least I have a few people in the company that have gotten to know me personally, most of which are janitors or people that normally work by themselves, which gives us all a common ground with not being recognized as our own. It was because of these individuals that I decided on what to do.

As usual, the big annual conference was full. Most attendees, wanting to see what was in store for the next year, since the last year was mainly for “transitioning” me in. I looked down at the pre-made script handed to me by the lead advisor, and I couldn't help but sigh at the impossible expectations of someone that wasn’t even meant to be in this position.

Yet, here I am, at a pedestal not meant for me, looking out at the company my father built with a list of crap that I have no hope of accomplishing. The crowd quieted down as they waited for me to speak, and for a minute I froze, looking out at the unfamiliar faces looking at me with expectations beyond my worth. In the back of the crowd, I noticed lone workers who sympathized with my situation, understanding that I wasn't fit for the job and that others, not my elusive brothers, were better choices, but here we are.

I continued to look out into the crowd until my advisors coaxed me into speaking. They sounded irate and annoyed at my silence, and the pushing was getting on my nerves. I looked down at my script and then back up again at the crowd before crumpling it and tossing it into the bin next to the podium. There were a few gasps at the action, but none compared to the deafening silence that ensued after I uttered my next words.

“You know what. I quit.”

It was so silent for that first 30 seconds, you could hear a pin drop, then the chaos started. Uproarious shouts and curses flew about the conference room; Some were excited, some were angry. I paid no mind to either, as the lead advisor marched over to me with an angry red face that would put a tomato to shame. “What are you doing?” He seethed at me. I shrugged, already used to his surly temper. “Quitting, duh.” I responded in kind, just pissing him off more.

“Why you little…Miss -” He started out before I stopped him with a raise of my hand. I had heard enough, not just from him, but from a voice in the crowd that mentioned my lack of importance without my last name. It was then I formed a plan. I turned back to the podium and let out a high whistle to gain everyone's attention. After a few complaints about hurt ears, it went quiet.

Turning slightly, I faced both the crowd and my advisor before speaking calmly into the mic. “I’ll stay, but on one condition.” I started simply. Getting a look of excitement from my advisor. “Anyone here that wants me to stay must tell me my first name.” I finished watching as faces fell at my request. Many had a look of realization on why I would quit.

The advisor stuttered as he stepped closer. “That shouldn’t be necessary Miss-” “No.” I interrupted simply. “It is necessary, because I know everyone here knows what my father's name was, and all three of my brothers before they left. Why shouldn't I get the same privilege?” I asked with finality.

My advisor looked away, not having an answer, so I turned fully to the crowd. The workers that knew my name stayed silent in understanding. I waited quietly, listening to the murmurs and discussions about my request. No one dared to try, knowing that it would not address the bigger issue at hand. Many audience members realized that this position was not for me, and were ready to let me leave, but most were afraid of what that would do to the company. I understood and gave one last thing to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, even with my leave, I wish you all the luck and prosperity to move forward in my father's name. Please organize and nominate those you deem worthy of taking this position, and then put it to a vote. These advisors shall help with this new transition before retiring, as promised. I plan to attend school to learn this trade properly before I return. I do not wish to be given this position upon my return, no instead, I shall earn my way like everyone else, so please, for my father before me, keep ‌pressing forward. Goodbye.”

As new invigorated chatter filled the room, I turned and walked off the stage and out the door.