How did I get here?
Do you ask yourself this question? I do, on average, twice a year, as that is how often my life changes in nearly every way. It's been this way since my divorce four years ago, and to be fair, most of my ten years of marriage as well. In fact, if babies could talk, that would have likely been the first sentence I uttered after exiting the birth canal. Yes, it's a theme.
There are theories, the first being the results of combining a naively and spontaneously enthusiastic personality with the inability to say "no." Another could be drawing the short stick in heaven when "luck" was being distributed or checking the box labeled "painfully challenging and tumultuously character building" on the Level of Difficulty Order Form for life before descending the birth canal. Or maybe I told God, "Do what you want to me, just make it a good story."
If I had a dollar for every time a therapist told me, "You should write a book," I could afford therapy.
But the best answer is because my journey led me into sales, which is based on convincing people. That's the most diplomatic word I can think of... the alternatives being: to charm, schmooze, fool, bullshit, manipulate, blackmail. Sugar coat it behind belief in your product, but at the end of the day, you're motivated and rewarded to sell whatever it is you're selling. So, you learn to convince people. And that skill has gotten me through many, many unexpected circumstances.
In my 30+ years (the exact number has been intentionally repressed from my memory), I've convinced people I was a GATE student, a magician, an athlete, then an athletic coach, a video producer, a reporter, an audio/visual guru, a representative of Jesus Christ bearing the exclusive knowledge of the path to heaven, a dance instructor, a preschool teacher, a bill collector, a personal trainer, a pharmacy and then medical sales rep, and most importantly, a good mom.
I believe I was once, when that was all I was. But now, it's a part-time gig, and the guilt-driven overcompensation for the job demotion doesn't help. My kids are near perfect, despite me. And then, when asked how the overpriced guilt compensation robotic remote controlled velociraptor birthday gift, who was roaring and shaking while trying to stuff him on the shelf with the other unnecessarily purchased clutter could be shut off, my son said, "Put your finger in his bum hole." Remembering the pre-teen to be unnaturally mature and innocent, I checked the dinosaur, and he was right. My son is still perfect, despite me. The 50%+ time away from me hasn't destroyed him yet. And I learned to put more thought (and button placement research) into my purchases.
But this isn't a financial guidebook, this a blog about our life story, our reconciliation of inadequacies, failures and disappointments while answering, not "How did I get here?" but "Why am I here?" And, if I can learn from it, "Where can I go?"
There are theories, the first being the results of combining a naively and spontaneously enthusiastic personality with the inability to say "no." Another could be drawing the short stick in heaven when "luck" was being distributed or checking the box labeled "painfully challenging and tumultuously character building" on the Level of Difficulty Order Form for life before descending the birth canal. Or maybe I told God, "Do what you want to me, just make it a good story."
If I had a dollar for every time a therapist told me, "You should write a book," I could afford therapy.
But the best answer is because my journey led me into sales, which is based on convincing people. That's the most diplomatic word I can think of... the alternatives being: to charm, schmooze, fool, bullshit, manipulate, blackmail. Sugar coat it behind belief in your product, but at the end of the day, you're motivated and rewarded to sell whatever it is you're selling. So, you learn to convince people. And that skill has gotten me through many, many unexpected circumstances.
In my 30+ years (the exact number has been intentionally repressed from my memory), I've convinced people I was a GATE student, a magician, an athlete, then an athletic coach, a video producer, a reporter, an audio/visual guru, a representative of Jesus Christ bearing the exclusive knowledge of the path to heaven, a dance instructor, a preschool teacher, a bill collector, a personal trainer, a pharmacy and then medical sales rep, and most importantly, a good mom.
I believe I was once, when that was all I was. But now, it's a part-time gig, and the guilt-driven overcompensation for the job demotion doesn't help. My kids are near perfect, despite me. And then, when asked how the overpriced guilt compensation robotic remote controlled velociraptor birthday gift, who was roaring and shaking while trying to stuff him on the shelf with the other unnecessarily purchased clutter could be shut off, my son said, "Put your finger in his bum hole." Remembering the pre-teen to be unnaturally mature and innocent, I checked the dinosaur, and he was right. My son is still perfect, despite me. The 50%+ time away from me hasn't destroyed him yet. And I learned to put more thought (and button placement research) into my purchases.
But this isn't a financial guidebook, this a blog about our life story, our reconciliation of inadequacies, failures and disappointments while answering, not "How did I get here?" but "Why am I here?" And, if I can learn from it, "Where can I go?"
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