Ouch, council. For a moment you knocked the wind out of me — confidence gone, sense of commitment shaken — but only briefly. Because it all came back, stronger than before. So thank you for that. And when I say I’m not carrying any baggage, I truly mean it. I’m good. More than good, actually.

Here’s the thing about competing for a city manager job. You think you have it. Everyone inside the organization thinks you have it. Colleagues in neighboring cities think you have it. Everyone but the five people who matter most think you have it. And then you learn you don’t. The reality hits hard. It hurts. It stings. It makes you question everything. But the sting doesn’t last forever. It fades, eventually.

After 14 years with the city — nine as public works director and five as assistant city manager — the opportunity came when our long‑time city manager announced her retirement. I’d been groomed for years. Hundreds of meetings, issues, crises, conversations. I was brought into everything, involved in everything, prepared for the next step every day. So when the announcement came, I expected the usual next move.

Instead, council asked the outgoing city manager to stay another six months, not out of panic, but something close to it. We were heading into labor negotiations and they wanted continuity. Rational, yes, but it still felt like a kick.

I told myself I was fine. I told myself I didn’t want to be juggling three labor agreements while trying to prove myself, interviewing, and running the city. I told myself it was actually better this way. That story helped for a while.

I spent hours prepping for the interview. Coming up with potential questions and answering them. The big interview day came for me and the two other candidates. I got the questions I expected and answered them. I was nervous but thought I did well. Council decided quickly and I got the call that afternoon, but not the call I had hoped for.

This all happened on a Friday. You might think I’d get the weekend to collapse into bed and lick my wounds, but early Saturday morning I had to welcome our new community academy members. Usually the city manager does this, but she had a pre‑planned absence. So there I was smiling, leading, and pretending my heart didn’t feel like it had dropped into my shoes. That’s the job.

On Monday, I began sharing the news with my colleagues. The disbelief was universal. Everyone asked the same question: why? They had selected someone with very good qualifications, but I believed I had them, too. Council said the same. Yet the question lingered.

On the night council approved the agreement with the new city manager, I sat there forcing myself to look engaged, pretending to be pleased. Inside, I was burning. I wanted to be anywhere else, but skipping that meeting would have been the easy way out, and I knew it.

When I opened this piece by saying council stripped me of my confidence and commitment, I meant it. But it didn’t last long. The pain, anger, blame, and especially the fear that people might see me as something less than before eventually passed. And that happened because other assistant city managers, past and present, reached out. People who had been through the same thing. People who understood the worry that you’ll be perceived differently. Their support mattered more than I’ve ever admitted until now.

They told me their own stories. How the disappointment hits hard but doesn’t define you. How they didn’t think any less of colleagues who weren’t selected. How being passed over didn’t diminish anyone’s worth. Hearing this brought immediate comfort. It made me realize the feeling is universal. And temporary.

I eventually let go of the lingering question of why. Council shared their perspectives once enough time had passed. What it came down to was change — nothing personal, nothing missing, no big failures — just a desire for something new. And I’m not new. Even though the organization is in a great place, a fresh face was appealing. That’s all.

Oddly enough, having someone new in the top job has been rewarding. You might think I’d resent having to help the new person succeed, but the opposite happened. I can finally see my worth in a whole new way. Before, the city manager had all the answers, all the history, all the perspective. I was needed, but not like today. Now I have a chance to shape how we operate, offer my own knowledge, and steer us in the right direction based on experience. My value is clearer than ever.

And instead of blaming council, I accepted the outcome as partly on me. I could have made myself stand out and I didn’t. I had leaned on being associated with past success. That wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t new.

What I take forward is humility and self‑reflection. And when I say, “thank you, council,” I genuinely mean it. Coming out of this has given me more confidence, not less. I can feel the value I bring. I can see how my role improves the community. And I understand how candidates like me need to differentiate themselves from the past to be part of ushering in what’s next.

Today I’m happier in my work than I’ve ever been. And now I get to be the colleague who reaches out and understands what it feels like when things don’t go the way you hoped. If you go through something similar, I’d be glad to be the person who reminds you of your worth. But you have to tell me, so reach out.