Tag Archives: Career


15 Jul

I had coffee with a friend late last night at Caribou in midtown, and she made a comment about a mutual friend of ours being in a “transitional” stage of life. Things are changing, he’s coming into himself, he’s realizing what needs to be appreciated and what doesn’t, and coming to terms with the surprises life holds.

It’s happening a lot lately.

I feel like I’ve talked an awful lot about jobs and interviews and ideas these past weeks. But it’s something giant in my life that changes daily, and interesting insights are always at hand. I’ve met with two of my Ogle professors, one last week, the other this morning at Starbucks. They know me better than any career coach ever could – they’ve seen me as a freshman, they’ve seen me win the Anne River Siddons award my senior year of college. They saw me play my music in public for the first time and they watched me walk across the stage wearing my cap and gown. They taught me how to write – creatively, critically, and everything in between. And no one can tell me my chances of being successful better than they can.

I came away from both meetings with ideas, a handful of contacts and a new resolve that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I think I’m ready now. I think I’m ready to take life by the horns and yank it around to face me. It’s time to take control, get off the sidelines and into the game.

It’s going to work. I’m going to be a successful writer. Just you watch.


1 Jul

I made a list, once, of everything I wanted out of life. It didn’t include the cookie cutter marriage to the cookie cutter man, or children, or a picket fence in the suburbs. I was OK with that. I had my music, my writing, my ideas and dreams and hopes.

I’ve always loved being different, wanting and achieving different things that most people I know. Right now, out of the 12 girls who graduated from my high school in 2004, eight are married, and as of yesterday, three of those eight have children. I can’t imagine that being my life. I can’t imagine being 24 and having a ring on my finger and a baby in the other room that came from my body. Like I’ve said before, I want different things than this. I want to go to our reunion and have something to show for myself besides a ring and a baby. Those are not the accomplishments I want under my name.

Something shifted in me last month. It was sudden, quick, sweeping in and overtaking me while my back was turned, catching me unaware and leaving me blinking in the sudden new light. I want to be a mommy one day. I want to watch my belly grow and feel the tiny kicks and make the midnight trip to the hospital and bring home a tiny little thing and make a family. I do. And while this feels right, and I will do it one day, I still feel guilty, or confused, that my new life ideas include a tiny person other than myself. I wish to God I was one of those people who are different and live an alternative lifestyle. As much as I want that, I still crave stability and normalcy, too. It’s an interesting feeling, one that I grapple with sometimes every day.

Even Sex and the City told me I can’t have both. I can’t be a career woman and a good mommy. It doesn’t work like that.

I feel like I’ve turned a corner, though. I’m on my way somewhere else now, the shadows retreating swiftly behind me and the light coming from a new angle. Or maybe it’s just a relief at embracing the inevitable, at accepting destiny and fate and biology, whatever you want to call it. Whichever it is, it’s enjoyable, this change of scenery, and I’m hanging on for as long and as far as this train runs.