Well, I don’t think I’ve ever cried this much in my whole life. The big news I was going to share will have to wait another day: it’s happy and I’m not right now.
Sometimes I don’t really want to be me. I don’t want to be the person who graduated valedictorian in high school and was the best student in the physics department and smashed Oxford and got a great scholarship and produces quality work even though she cries half the day, wastes time on the Interwebs the other half of the day, and types away for maybe 15 minutes. Sometimes I don’t want to live up to the promise of that smart, unhappy girl.
Sometimes I wish I’d just kept on surfing. Maybe kept playing piano and became a piano teacher. I’m so happy with A and the boom so I’m glad I didn’t become a bum when I seriously considered it, a long eight years ago. But today I had set everything in line to leave that sad crybaby above and make the difference I actually wanted to make in my life.
I set myself up for the leap. I was ready to fly.
I get it, selling pants at lululemon does not quite have the same ring to it as bacterial classification at a federal medical research laboratory. It will be a gross anomaly on an otherwise spotless piece of paper called my resume. But crazy enough, that’s the girl I wanted to be. It was the first job which I smiled at for itself. Sure I was excited to get the scholarship and the job at the Rock, because that meant I could keep going to Notre Dame. Sure I was excited to get the job at the medical research center, because that meant I could leave the Rock and begin my path to doctoring. But the jobs themselves? No. Zero excitement. I can put a good face on for a little while, but at the end of the day all I want to do is get out. Get. Out.
Why would I want to sell pants? It was a first step with a company whose founder’s political and personal philosophies I share, whose entrepreneurial genius I admire. It was a job that would prepare me to work with a company where my role would grow with my education, my contributions would be commensurate with experience, and I could make beautiful functional pieces for beautiful functional movement. Most of all, it was job where I could be happy, now. I could be free. I could go without worry for a day. I could take a yoga class or lead a run club or organize a charity event and it would not only be fun and smile-inducing, it would be work: I’d get paid for it. The work-life balance would be easy because I’d like my work as well as I love my life.
And even though it would seem irresponsible, overall it would make sense because I was building from the ground up with a product I could one day be in the position to create. And it would be make sense because I was finally choosing to live the life I wanted to live, be the person I wanted to be.
But I guess I am the girl I am.
Hopefully I figure out how to stop this flood soon. I’m tired of treading water and I didn’t know I’d need an ark.
KT who did not leap