22 weeks.
It’s been 22 weeks since I said goodbye to a once-in-a-lifetime job to jump into the vast unknown.
I really couldn’t have predicted any of this.
I never thought I would be (willingly) out of a job after a 12-year career. I never thought I would move back to Chicago to live in a house in the suburbs, especially without a dog or kids. I never thought it would be this hard.
Not that I thought it was going to be easy. I knew that by taking this major leap into the immense unidentified wilderness, seemingly both feet first and eyes closed, that there were going to be some bumps. But I never thought that work defined my existence, until I took off that badge and was left in a huge vat of “what the fuck now”?
I guess I never really took the time to figure out what I wanted in this life. I blindly went from opportunity to opportunity, but never really thought about the fundamental things I wanted out of life. I was lucky to be employed, to legitimately be making a good living in an industry I had planned to work in and had grown to love. But at some point, even the best laid plans often go awry, and my so-called “designed life” was headed in a direction I wasn’t too happy about. So, I tried my damnest to plot the next few moments of my life out and see what direction that would take me. And all that “planning” led me to now – confused as ever of who I am.
Some may call it a “midlife” crisis (although I like to think my midlife is in my 50s, thank you very much). Others may call me lucky to even have the option to do this. All I know is the moment I took off that badge that defined the last decade or so of my existence, what should have been my “hiatus” or “adult gap year” soon became my existential “crisis” and I suddenly didn’t know who I was anymore.
We’re living in a day in age where happiness and wellness are daily watercooler talk, and more often than not, people are taking the plunge into being happy versus being secure. Cause, after all, as the old adage goes, you can get hit by a car tomorrow, so buy the shoes today.
There are a handful of friends, facebook or otherwise, that I have seen on this trend. A married couple who just needed a break from life and decided to take a year off to travel the nation in their RV. A middle-of-life woman in a male-dominated field, that after countless nights and weekends doing what she loved and was good at, promptly retired. And myself, working in her “dream” profession, giving it all up to move back to her hometown and be closer to family. All for the sake of the elusive happiness.
But the question remains: did the happiness experiment work?
Loaded question. I know that in my heart of hearts, this was the right move. There are days that I am shocked that I had the chutzpah to do this at all. I am not a risk taker by nature, so this has been one of the biggest chances I have taken in my life thus far, and I am proud of myself for that. There are other times that I am so down on myself that I romanticize the past, knowing full well that it was time to leave that path, but still yearning for that sense of complacent control.
Am I confused as ever about who I am without a so-called “career” to define me? Do I freak out daily about what I want to be when I “grow up”? Do I sometimes feel like a failure because I don’t have a job at the moment?
100%.
Would I do it all over again given the knowledge that I have now, 22 weeks later?
You bet your bottom dollar I would.
Because here is the thing I am learning about life – we are always going to be works in progress. That person who seems to have it all together – the house, the career, the beautiful family? They too, struggle with self-worth and defining a life for themselves. Everyone at any given moment in time is on a journey of self-discovery, and it’s the ones that actually take the time to breathe, to self-analyze, to ask the questions, to ponder their life path that are the lucky ones.
After all,
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
