Sometimes providing for your means missing them and fighting the unspeakable battles!

*Sometimes love mean leaving home to provide *

I couldn’t sleep, so I woke up long before my alarm.

My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to rest. The past few months have taken a toll on me, and I can feel the effect it has had on my health.

Recently, my contract with Correo Express was terminated because, after working continuously for six months as a temporary employee, I reached the period when I was required to stop working and take time away from the job.

A few days before that happened, I had gone to the hospital because I wasn’t feeling well. I was sent to the emergency room, where I received an injection, had tests done, and was prescribed medication. I was even advised to stay at home for four days.

But I went back to work despite my weakness.

Why?

Because I wanted my contract to be renewed.

Because I have a family depending on me.

Because sometimes, when you are responsible for other people, you don’t feel like you have the luxury of simply stopping.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Because at that point, I had almost nothing left.

There was little food at home. There was no money in my bank account. My family in the UK was struggling, depending largely on the mercy and support of my in-laws.

The only tangible support I had been able to provide was a small monthly food allowance, and I knew it wasn’t enough.

I had made the drastic decision to leave my family behind because I believed that if I worked hard enough, I could build a better future for all of us.But sometimes, the road to that future takes you through places you never imagined.

And sometimes, you have to fight battles you never expected to fight.

I worried constantly about my wife, my children, our relationship, and everything happening back home. The distance was already putting pressure on our family, and the uncertainty surrounding our situation made everything even harder.

Yet I kept telling myself:

I have to keep going.

Through Jobandtalent, I was offered another position with CTT Express in San Fernando.

I received a one-month contract and was assigned a shift. It wasn’t going to be easy, especially after working nights at my previous job, but as a family man, I felt I had very few options.

I needed the money.I needed to work.

I needed to keep trying.So I got myself ready.

Despite the exhaustion and the uncertainty, I left home early enough to make sure I arrived at the company on time for my first shift.

I took the train, which stopped twice at Torrejón, and then I still had about a fifteen-minute walk from the station to where I lived. Since there was no public transport available to the industrial estate where the company was located that Sunday, the other employees I met at the stop and I had to take a taxi.

I arrived at the company, changed into my work clothes, and prepared myself to begin.

I thought I had finally found another opportunity.

Then everything changed.

A CTT employee arrived with a register and began calling people’s names.

One after another, people were called inside.

I waited.

After about twenty people had been called, I finally heard my name.

But instead of being told to join the others inside, I was instructed to go home along with four other people.

At first, I couldn’t understand what she meant.

I moved closer because I wanted to be certain I had heard correctly.

“Casa.”

Home.

I couldn’t believe it.I had signed a one-month contract.

I had been given a shift.I had travelled to the company.I had spent money getting there.

And now, without any prior notice or cancellation, I was being told to go home.

I asked why.The response was cold and simple: she was only doing her job and I should speak to the Jobandtalent employee who had offered me the position if I had a problem.

There was nothing she could do.

So I left.

Devastated.And I had to pay for another taxi to get home.

When I arrived, I immediately tried to contact Jobandtalent.I called their helpline repeatedly.

No answer.I sent a WhatsApp message.

No response.I sent an email.Still nothing.

And the hardest part is that this wasn’t the first time.

Last year, I experienced something similar when I started working at CTT in Coslada through Jobandtalent. I was also told to go home after arriving for work, and I had to pursue the matter until it was eventually resolved.

How many people are going through situations like this and simply have no voice?

How many workers travel long distances, spend money on transportation, rearrange their lives and make plans around a job, only to be sent home without warning?

Workers are human beings.

They have rent to pay.

They have children to feed.

They have families depending on them.

They have responsibilities.

They have fears.

And behind every temporary worker is a real person trying to build a life.

We often talk about economic growth, companies, productivity and employment figures.

But we shouldn’t forget the people who make those things possible.

Workers deserve dignity.They deserve communication.They deserve to know when a job has been cancelled before they spend their money travelling to work.

They deserve to be treated like human beings.

That morning, my headache became worse.

I was already carrying the weight of my family’s situation, the financial pressure, the uncertainty surrounding my work and the strain that the distance had placed on my relationship.

Now I had another problem.

How would I explain this to my family?

How would I provide even the small amount I normally send home this month?

How could I convince them that leaving them behind was part of a plan to build something better when I couldn’t even secure the work I needed to make that plan possible?

Sometimes I feel that nobody really understands what a man carries inside when he is trying to provide for his family.

People see you going to work.

They see you getting paid.

They assume you are fine.

They don’t see the sleepless nights.

They don’t see the fear.

They don’t see the calculations you make in your head every day.

They don’t see the phone calls you don’t know how to answer.

They don’t see the pressure of knowing that people you love are depending on you.

And perhaps that’s why society often tells men to simply “be strong.”

So you keep going.

You swallow the disappointment.You wipe your tears.You get up the next morning.And you try again.Today didn’t go according to plan.

The job didn’t go according to plan.

My finances aren’t where I want them to be.

My family is still far away.

And there are battles I never expected to fight.

But I have learned something through all of this:

Failure is not the same thing as the end.

Tomorrow, I will get up again.I will look for another opportunity.I will keep writing.I will keep working.

I will keep fighting for my family.

Because sometimes providing for your family means missing them.

Sometimes it means fighting battles nobody else knows about.

And sometimes it means falling down today and finding the strength to stand up again tomorrow.

**I may not know exactly how this story ends.

But I know I am not finished writing it.**