One of the things I've struggled with most in my newfound LoLdom is my identity. For nearly two decades, I've been an ambitious doer. I was the doingest middle schooler, for which I earned a nifty plaque. Then I was the doingest high schooler, this time earning me a nifty trophy. The trend continued through college and into my first career. However, outside of academia, I quickly learned a cruel lesson--no one gave a shit what I did.
Before I began a career in politics, I gave hours and hours of my time and energy to building relationships, helping candidates and generally being as available for whatever as I could be, in the hopes of establishing a reputation for myself and a certain trust and confidence in my dedication. It was this free time and energy, this above-and-beyondness that earned me my first political job and all the others after. The funny thing is, the minute I started making a buck, all of that goodwill went out the window and suddenly I was just like all of the other overworked, under-appreciated, "incompetent" young people working in my field. Regardless, the challenges of the work and the minute crumbs of achievement made it worth the criticism.
But what now?
I can't get a job directly in the political realm anymore, and I'm not sure that's a bad thing. That being said, for four years, it was how I DEFINED myself. I was a hard-working, strategically-thinking, stress-managing machine. And then, it was done. For years I had worked without boundaries or limits. I alienated my friends because I was never available, I strained family relationships by asking them for limitless patience with my schedule and demands, I sacrificed meaningful relationships because I ate, slept and breathed another person's ambitious agenda, and I drained myself so fully that what interactions people DID have with me were pathetically vacant. To cap it off, I developed an ulcer, just to prove that the stress I was under was real and acute.
Obviously, I haven't found the same kind of employment since. What I have found is friendship, recreation, vacation, hobby, fun, free-time, sleep, calm, interests and love. I've found LEISURE.
For decades I didn't know it was missing! Now that I have it, I can't imagine forsaking it again.
Still, it's hard for me when someone says, "What do you do?"
There was a time I would've immediately told them I worked on political campaigns (btw, this is a GREAT way to dodge a d-bag at a bar...), but now, I feel compelled to tell them ANYTHING else. I'm a reader. I'm a BB-gun shooter. I'm a singer. I'm a modest gardner and avid fisherwoman. I'm an outdoorswoman and a lover of old movies. All of these things are more interesting and more true to the question than my occupation.
I understand, now, why stay-at-home-mothers have such a hard time socializing. Our culture is all about money and how we make it. There was a time when what someone did was just what they did. If your family had a farm, you inherited it. If the men in your family were doctors, that's what you were, too. But where does that leave women? For centuries women were childbearing, cleaning, cooking, sewing, washing entities. Then we busted out--but the deal wasn't necessarily a sweet one. Now, we are all of those things AND we need to be more. We're supposed to be ambitious and intelligent in our careers, look nice, find nice men, make good kids, keep cute homes, have great friends, be good community members and do it without being bitches. Women's lib be damned! Women's suffrage and all that followed was supposed to ALLOW women to do everything, not MANDATE it!
I'm endeavoring to relieve myself of this pressure, but it's not going to be easy. First, I have to give myself an effing break; I don't need to have an amazing career to be an amazing person. Second, I have to accept my essential nature; I'm an introvert. All of those years of constant contact and being "on" burned me out prematurely. Just like an athlete who blows their knee by pushing themselves too hard for too long, so I did to my soul. I can never again pretend to have infinite patience and endless enthusiasm. Instead, I'm going to have to work--a day at a time--at accepting my own need for leisure. Ladies, I suggest you do the same.
