She is succeeding at my dream

She won the award.  They actually put her in a magazine.  There was a gala of sorts and they gave her a little glass trophy thing that will look great in the company lobby.

Sorry. What I mean is, she won my award.  They put her in my magazine.  They put my trophy in her company lobby.  Or at least that’s what it felt like.  

I had this vision once — at least one that I put on paper for my bosses.  I laid out a plan and put a case together.  My idea was a new segment for the company and the market.  I was uniquely qualified, superbly motivated and ridiculously good looking [author’s note: my wife edits these thoughts.  Additions are as important as subtractions in the editorial process, so I defer to her. But I digress].  This idea was ahead of its time.  We were the first among our competition to the market here and we would have been able to do the kind of work we wanted and make the money we needed.  It was beautiful.  

But it didn’t happen.  At least it didn’t happen then or with me.  But she did it.  

She realized my vision.  How did she do it?  Was her presentation better than mine? What did she know that I didn’t?  Did she have support or a sponsor that I didn’t? Did they like her more than me?

Maybe it wasn’t her.  Maybe it was me.  Was I too far ahead of my time?  Was my brand stained from that one project in back in aught-five? Was I not good enough, smart enough, or ridiculously good looking enough? 

Or maybe it wasn’t me. Or her. Or them.  I wonder if it was just the right time.  Perhaps she was able to reap seeds I’d sown years earlier.  Had the market changed?  

Whatever the ‘real’ answer is, I wonder what it matters.  I had a dream that someone else realized.  In my idea, I put hopes and dreams and part of myself into that dream and I was told ’no.’  This loss of a dream is the sad part of the story.  I’ve worked through all kinds of analysis and post-mortem to see what I could learn, each exercise cloaked in anger at ’them’ that didn’t give me what I wanted — nay, what I deserved.  The last part was for me to admit my sadness.  Raging against the machine hadn’t done me any good and the company had clearly moved on, but I was stuck — projecting my anger and projection onto a lovely person I’ve never met.  Mourning the loss of that hope is the work for me now.  

I wonder what else still needs to be mourned?  Where else am I projecting my sadness into anger on someone else?  

To be clear, there is a ‘her’ but I don’t know her.  I’m sure she’s lovely.  I’m sure she is more than qualified and I’m confident that she’s doing all kinds of good.  I know it was a good idea and I am glad she was able to make it work.  Sincere congratulations.