I take a breath. “I have to be honest with myself about capacity. ”
“I know I’m good at employee relations,” I say. “I’m not questioning whether I can do the work. I’m thinking through what the role would require day to day and whether I can give it what it needs while still honoring the other work I’m building.”
“What other work?”
“My art business,” I say.
Jacquetta frowns.
“Lit with Lily,” I say, because it deserves its name in the room. “It’s not a hobby. I teach classes, host events, run private parties, and create art experiences. It’s growing, and I want to grow with it.”
Jacquetta leans back, her frown deepening. “Are you resigning?”
My whole stomach flips.
“No,” I say quickly.
“ I also don’t want to accept a promotion without a full understanding of whether I can do everything else in my life too.”
She studies me.
I hold her gaze, even though every responsible bone in my body screams at me to shut up and take the money.
My creative bones are louder today.
Jacquetta exhales through her nose. “This is unusual.”
“I know.”
“We don’t often have people decline advancement. It may affect how leadership views your long-term trajectory here.”
There’s the warning wrapped in professionalism.
I swallow. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, and I’d rather be honest now than step into a role I already know I’m not fully committed to.”
Jacquetta sits back for a moment, her fingers folded around her tablet.
“I appreciate your honesty,” she says, and I can tell she means it in the HR way, not the regular human way.
“Thank you.”
“We’ll need to discuss what this means for coverage and succession planning, and we may need you to continue supporting certain transition tasks until another option is identified.”
That sounds about right.
I turn down a promotion and still get leftover work from it.
Delightful.
At least I can breathe now.
“I can support a reasonable transition,” I say. “I’d like to stay in my current role.”
Jacquetta nods slowly. “I’ll need to speak with leadership.”
