Imperfect Picture Perfect
Did I make a mistake in leaving? Should I have stayed?
Today I received "The Book" and it only furthermore fostered my recent thoughts about my former job. I had my "dream job" (in its most infant form). I had coworkers who became friends who became family. I "knew people". I loved the product, afterall, as my college entrance paper stated - fashion is my passion. I was comfortable, had a great career trajectory and zero intention of leaving.
I remember when people would quit I would think "lucky them, they got out", feelings of jealousy would overtake me. OK so this is a normal reaction amongst the masses in corporate America, but it wasn't one I could quite come to terms with, especially given my "dream job" status. People told me I had the perfect job - the look, the clothes, the name. YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY DO. I BELIEVE YOU. I DO. KINDA. SORTA. It all looked so good. I was good at it......but I felt trapped.
My lease was ending and the prospect of taking on a roommate was looming. I hadn't had female roommates since college and the vision of my bipolar roommate ripping out chunks of her hair while screaming kept running on a loop in my head (I should point out the girl who was to move in was sane, my ex roommate was definitely batshit crazy). It all just seemed like one more bandaid on my barely held together life.
So I did what anyone would do, quit my job and moved to a state I didn't even know was in East coast time zone until my phone switched over. WHAT THE HELL? I managed to end a 5 year personal relationship and a 7 year professional relationship all in one year. And now my entire life fit inside a 9 x 11 box on wheels. Talk about a humbling moment. That's the thing about dream jobs, dreams change.....people change. I changed. No one tells me I have the perfect job, perfect relationship, perfect life anymore and yet - I do. I no longer feel trapped, suffocated, stuck. I'm in transition, perhaps it's not an enviable place for others, but it's all mine.
As I sit here and flip through the magazine, longing for the merchandise, wondering if I'll ever end up back there, I get to the last page - an ad - and this quote:
"It is not the critic who counts;
the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, who strives valiantly;
who errs, who comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasm; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst, if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly."
Should I have stayed? I couldn't.
Today I received "The Book" and it only furthermore fostered my recent thoughts about my former job. I had my "dream job" (in its most infant form). I had coworkers who became friends who became family. I "knew people". I loved the product, afterall, as my college entrance paper stated - fashion is my passion. I was comfortable, had a great career trajectory and zero intention of leaving.
I remember when people would quit I would think "lucky them, they got out", feelings of jealousy would overtake me. OK so this is a normal reaction amongst the masses in corporate America, but it wasn't one I could quite come to terms with, especially given my "dream job" status. People told me I had the perfect job - the look, the clothes, the name. YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY DO. I BELIEVE YOU. I DO. KINDA. SORTA. It all looked so good. I was good at it......but I felt trapped.
My lease was ending and the prospect of taking on a roommate was looming. I hadn't had female roommates since college and the vision of my bipolar roommate ripping out chunks of her hair while screaming kept running on a loop in my head (I should point out the girl who was to move in was sane, my ex roommate was definitely batshit crazy). It all just seemed like one more bandaid on my barely held together life.
So I did what anyone would do, quit my job and moved to a state I didn't even know was in East coast time zone until my phone switched over. WHAT THE HELL? I managed to end a 5 year personal relationship and a 7 year professional relationship all in one year. And now my entire life fit inside a 9 x 11 box on wheels. Talk about a humbling moment. That's the thing about dream jobs, dreams change.....people change. I changed. No one tells me I have the perfect job, perfect relationship, perfect life anymore and yet - I do. I no longer feel trapped, suffocated, stuck. I'm in transition, perhaps it's not an enviable place for others, but it's all mine.
As I sit here and flip through the magazine, longing for the merchandise, wondering if I'll ever end up back there, I get to the last page - an ad - and this quote:
"It is not the critic who counts;
the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, who strives valiantly;
who errs, who comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasm; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who at the worst, if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly."