I worked in retail for 6 months. I had no experience in sales, and I had too much experience in schooling. Some may say maybe that’s not the best career choice for me. Yet, albeit how hard on the body it was, those 6 months were the most fun out of any job I’ve ever had.
In part it was because I was at the perfect age at the perfect store. It was at a successful local boutique that had several stores throughout the city, but still felt more like a local small business than a corporate conglomerate. And I was in my early 30s.
For the customers in their 20s, I was young and hip enough to seem like their cool older sister. For the customers in their 40s and above, I was mature enough to understand their tastes, yet young enough to make them feel younger themselves. And for women in my age range…well, I’ve worked corporate, I’ve traveled the world, I’ve lived in so many metropolises, that I am like the best friend in the dressing room that will tell you, “No, those jeans make your hips look wide,” or, “You will be able to walk all day in these pumps, lady,” and they know I’m right. The cherry on top of all this is that I’m a new mom, as are so may of the customers. And yes, I am well versed on what the problem areas are for a woman who carried a child, and how best to camouflage that.
I moved quickly through the ranks during those 6 months, and at one point, I thought maybe my dream is to own a similar boutique of my own.
But then I moved back to the East coast, and reality set in that retail just didn’t pay enough for the lifestyle that I wanted to lead. So I returned to my own field, and though I feel so fulfilled in the work that I do now…I will always look back on those 6 months fondly. Wow, what an amazing time I had.
It’s not necessarily the decor that I love, but the fact that peering outside the windows, I know it’s a city I’d love living in.
True story. I won’t call you names or criticize you for who you support. I won’t march in the streets with #NotMyPresident signs. And I won’t spread hatred and divide our country even more. What’s done is done and we must unite and organize in this scary, unpredictable time. And the best thing I can do for my country right now, is to educate my son, not just in math and reading and writing, but by setting an example, how to be fair, how to have compassion, how to treat women with respect, how to help people in need, how to view everyone as equal, how not to judge and condemn, how not to be ignorant, egotistical, and superior, but above all, how to be kind. Because it’s not just up to the president to make America great again. It’s up to us.
Money and power could mean a lot to a lot of women, but even money and power could not make me stoop to this low.
And I’m going to start off my return by listing things that make me happy.
- Finding Forever Homes for cats and kittens.
- When Dragon tells me he loves me unprompted.
- Catching rare Pokémon.
- Ordering things off Amazon Prime.
- Falling asleep to the sound of rain.
What makes you happy?
Husband asked me if I was excited and I replied I was more nervous.
So he said, “Why? What’s the worst that can happen? You get fired?”
“No, the worst that can happen is that they don’t like me!”
#mygreatestfear #pleaselikeme #leapyear
Cause I do.
I’m not Christian, or Catholic, or whatever religion there is out there that believes in God.
I’m not a disciple. I don’t read the Bible. I don’t set rules and regulations for myself (or others). I don’t post quotes from the Book on social media. I don’t shove my faith down people’s throats.
But I believe in God. I pray to him when I am scared, when I am confused, when I am sad. I thank him when I am happy, when things fall in place, when I overcome an obstacle. I have a private journey with him and I’ve never commented on it til now.
Cause I’m tired of people using their faith to be narrow minded.
I’m tired of people using their faith to judge others.
But most of all, I’m tired of people using their faith to be lazy.
“I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to plan. I don’t need to do anything cause I believe He already has a plan. I just need to sit on my lazy ass and He will work things out for me.”
No, honey. That’s bullshit. That’s a cop out. That’s a lazy person justifying their laziness.
Is there really a God? I can’t be sure. Does He really already have a plan for us? I can’t be sure. But I can be sure that if you continue sitting on your lazy ass waiting for a handout from “God,” you not only will never achieve anything great, you will never achieve anything at all.
I met a new friend recently and when I told her about my education background, she said, “That is so brave of you, to just up and leave everything and everyone you know and move half way around the world.”
But she’s wrong. There’s a difference between being brave and being fearless. Being brave is to overcome something you’re afraid of and forging ahead. Being fearless is to not even realize you’re afraid. I was the latter. I was 22 and I was fearless.
Now I’m in my 30s, mother of a young child, and I. Am. Afraid. Of. Everything.
20s and turbulence: Woohoo! This is like a roller coaster!
30s and turbulence: If something happens to the plane, I won’t be able to protect my son.
20s and health: Eh, whatever I have will most likely resolve itself.
30s and health: OMG, WhatIsThisAmIGoingToDie, what if Dragon loses his mother.
20s and safety: Fast driving, fast talking, fast drinking, fast fast fast.
30s and safety: We’re almost at the speed limit, can you slow down? There’s a child in the car.
You get the picture.
Now I’m looking to retire my role as a full-time Mommy and sniffing around for positions in the workforce again, and I realize this fearless/fearful situation is even revealing itself in something as simple as sitting in front of the computer and searching LinkedIn.
Straight out of grad school, I only applied for jobs that I was waaaaay under qualified for. “What have I got to lose?” was the mentality and my ego was gigantic. And looking back, I’m seeing that ego can be cleverly disguised as confidence, and confidence (along with skills obviously) wins over interviewers.
This go around, I find myself mostly applying for jobs I am over qualified for. The nagging voice in my head constantly undermines myself. “How are you going to explain the gap between employment?” “Will being a SAHM for awhile make me less desirable?” “What if I lost my touch?”
What ifs plaque my mind.
Is this an age thing? Maybe something that comes with the territory of becoming a parent? Or is it just me? Have I just gotten soft?
I’ve read four books this year so far, and that is by far a lot more than I read by Feb of 2015. I think part of the reason I’ve been much faster at getting through books is because all four of these have been extremely powerful.
Close Your Eyes, Hold Hands by Chris Bohjalian.
Room by Emma Donoghue
Luckiest Girl Alive by Jessica Knoll
You can’t get more stay-up-all-night, at-the-edge-of-your-seat than that!
But the fourth, and latest one, I think resonated with me the most.
Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget by Sarah Hepola.
“I understood drinking to be the gasoline of all adventure.”
“Wine has become our social glue, the mechanism of our bonding. We needed the wine to shut out the jackhammers of our own perfectionism and unlock the secrets we kept within.”
“A certain group of women have made booze a very public and very integral part of culture. Young, educated, and drunk.”
“I drank myself to a place I didn’t care, but I woke up a person I cared enormously.”
“The nights I can’t remember are the nights I can’t forget.”
“I’ve always been mixed up about attention, enjoying its warmth but not its scrutiny. I swear I’ve spent half my life hiding behind a couch and the other half wondering why no one was paying attention to me.”
“People like me disguised our true feelings in layers of detachment, endless pop-culture references, sarcasm. Because no one can break your heart if they don’t know it.”
“The wine turned down the volume of my own self-doubt, which is what I blocked writer is battling: the bullying voices in her head telling her each thought is unoriginal, each word too ordinary.”
“The real problem is that I still fear my own talent is deficient. This isn’t merely a problem for writers who drink; it’s a problem for drinkers and writers, period. We are cursed by a knowing fear that whatever we are – it’s not good enough.”
“What a powerful voodoo – to believe brilliance could be sipped or poured.”