Hope is a dangerous thing.

We need it to survive, to do more than merely survive.

Some of us hope for love, or for good news from the doctor, or that our kids won’t have to live through the hell that we lived through as children.

Some of us hope that nobody will notice us, that we can just fade into the background, almost ceasing to exist.

Others hope for the spotlight, the roar of the crowd, to be trending on Twitter and written about in the papers.

Hope. We all need it.

Lately I’ve hoped for it not to be so cold that I have to have the heater on all day, I’ve hoped for opportunities and good news.

And I’ve found hope really, really hard to hang on to.

I think I let it go for a while there. Shut down that dangerous force – it’s unpredictable and it hurts like fuck when your hopes aren’t met.

On the weekend, out of nowhere I realised that I have to want, I have to let myself open that locked down vault. I have to hope.

And do you know what, that scares the crap out of me.

You see, wanting and hoping are utterly impossible without vulnerability. Utterly, infuriatingly impossible.


So I put on my carefully selected clothes, I put on make-up, I drive across town and freak out that the traffic is crazy, I find a park and walk quickly up the street.

While I walk, I try to calm myself down and focus on the fact that I’ve made it this far. I know people are hoping on my behalf, and I hope their positivity is powerful.

I hope that the person I’m going to meet sees past my nerves. I hope they see me.

I hope. And I feel like I have absolutely no control over the outcome.

We talk, we have a drink, there’s easy banter, we do our strange getting-to-know-you dance – an hour flies by.

I sit in a cafe after it’s over, wishing I had a friend to debrief with.

I lamely post stuff on Facebook.

I’m wired and nervous.

I can’t believe I said that, didn’t say this, forgot to mention that… but I can’t change it now. I resist the urge to go back across the street and apologise, or try and take back that thing, or amend that other thing.

I finish my coffee and walk back to the car. I can’t tell if I feel relief or anxiety – I think it might be a weird cocktail of the two.


I actually shed a few tears on the drive home – not because I’m a lunatic, but because of the hope.

It’s out there now, suspended in time, I’ve hoped, I’ve put the hope into action and now it’s out of my hands.

Will he call?

I hope so.


It hurts to let that out of the bag… but I know I have to – both the admission about the tears, and the hoping.

I have to want, I have to hope.

And no, I wasn’t going on date – I was out at another job interview.



The trouble with this one is that I really want it. I think it could be awesome.

So I’m forced to hope – hope that makes me feel all kinds of unprotected and vulnerable.

What this knots in the guts hope reminds me of is that I actually truly want a job I can love, and throw myself into. I want to work with and for people who are passionate, driven and pushing the envelope. I do. There I said it. Are you satisfied now, inner voice?

So I probably will cry a bit more than is usual while I wait and hope, and while I do I’ll keep telling myself… I have to hope. I have to.


For now, I think I’ll put a movie on and make myself a toasted cheese sambo.


And keep hoping.






38 thoughts on “H-Bombs

  1. Ah, Annette, the lament of hope. It is a horrible beast, but it is the quintessential essence of being human. Without it, we simply could not go on, there would be no point. It will come, that job, the one for you. Of that I have no doubt. Do not give up hope. Because I’m sitting here, hoping with you. And perhaps with lots of hopes in the universe, that job, that thing to which you can attach your soul, will come along and your light, your beautiful light, will shine.

    Much love, Sarah x


  2. Annette this post is amazing.

    So full of raw truth, emotion, passion, vulnerability and hope all at the same time!

    I too add my hope for you nabbing this job into the universe.

    Anyone that is lucky enough to have you as part of their team will be truly blessed, with your passion and work ethic, you would be a great asset.

    on a side note : How have I not read your blog before, I will need to rectify this toot sweet – I will be back

    & GOODLUCK 🙂


  3. I feel like a dill for misinterpreting this on IG, but i’m grateful you shared these feelings. Hope is one of those really hard things that can turn into a tug of war of excitement and fear at the same time. Keep hoping x


  4. Hi Annette, great to meet you last night.
    That hope that we have is really attaching ourselves to a vision of what we want the future to be; you want this job because you are imagining a good time for yourself in it.
    It’s important to remember though that it is just that, a vision. There are multiple opportunities for happiness, not just one. If you don’t get this one, there will be others.
    Understanding this helped me get over a few dashed hopes in my life
    I hope you get the job x


    • Hi Cilla, I’m actually plenty happy, I’m not pinning my happiness on a job, I’m keen to be productively employed again. And I’d like to pay my gas bill with ease. That’s definitely a vision I have for the future! Imagine that!! : )


  5. Hold onto the hope, the wanting, the wanting to be seen. Let hope keep your ambition burning for the right job, not just any job. My Irish friend used to tell me If it’s for ye, it won’t pass ye. I hope that this one doesn’t pass you.


  6. That was so beautifully written Annette, I think you wrote about me and my hopes the times I have been in that situation – I think you wrote about so many of us right there in that piece if we are to be honest. Truly just a beautiful post. X


  7. Beautiful post Annette! I love hopefulness especially the adrenaline surging kind. And even when my hopes have been disappointed and I’ve cried like a baby, I can look back and see that what I’d been feeling was raw honest emotion which is what makes us vulnerable and human. So either way, it’s a win-win.


  8. Always hang on to hope! It’s my middle name so I am always hopeful. My MIL even said once ” do you notice how often you say I hope… Or hopefully ….? You really suit your name!” It made me laugh but it’s oh so true 🙂

    And sending all the job getting vibes your way xx


  9. Being an entrepreneur it to have eternal hope. You hope that others will unplug and understand your calling and even more importantly they will answer the call of their own calling. I never grew up saying I want to be a Motives Beauty Advisor and can hope that I raised my children to hope to be whatever they choose.


  10. Annette,
    Beautifully written. Hope can be a lovely gift or cause a big ol’ heartbreak. I understand now wanting to open up to it, not wanting “it” at all so that you are not opening yourself up to being disappointed (again). After nine months of being out of work, I feel it often. But then, I look through the ads again, and apply, and hope, that I won’t be over qualified, under qualified or whatever. This was an excellent post. Thank you.


  11. Annette, I was hoping so hard that you would get that job, but read above that it was not to be. Glad to hear that you are already up off the mat and ready for the next application. My experience in life has been that often the things that seem perfect for us really are not, and that something better always turns up. You seem like such a brilliant, competent person that I’m sure you will snag a great opportunity.

    I have a mixed relationship with hope. Hope can keep me going when nothing else can. But it can also take me out of the present moment and into a fantasy world of possibilities that probably won’t happen. Hoping for something better does make me miss what I already have. But it also gives me the energy to take the steps to make things better. Never stop hoping!


  12. When I was experiencing a long long spell like you described above- I had some great crashing letdowns-like “come to meet the staff on Monday” then on Saturday night overhearing someone else was hired- well meaning friends and family would say “don’t get your hopes up” but I decided to totally allow myself to be hopeful, to give myself permission to think something good was going to happen. I did this (this still makes me laugh at myself but that’s ok) because I didn’t want all the constant disappointment to wear down my ability to feel happy. I wanted my brain to always remember what being happy felt like, even if there was a big letdown later. Does that make sense?

    In retrospect I am glad I found a survival mechanism that got me through. I just started year 15 of the best job in the world, thanks for reminding me to appreciate it.


  13. Oh my goodness – this is so relevant in my life right now. I swear your words are the thoughts that my girlfriend is having right now as she sludges through the dating /single /dating /single scene. Hope is something we all hold out for when we want something isn’t it?

    There was a time that I found myself hopeful, in fact longing, for an outcome. When I changed my hope from “I want ‘this’ to happen” to “I want the best possible outcome to happen for my best life”, it took the pressure off. Made outcomes right, regardless of what the outcome was. Trusting.

    Learning to Love the vulnerability hangover! Another great read Annette!


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