A Renaissance Woman in a Specialized World

I was just reading a job search page online.  The page was promoting women and living their dreams and that I should share my story and add my voice to the collective.  Resistance must be futile because I immediately started thinking about what my story "is."  I realized that at this point in my life, I am not sure.

I used to think my story was that of a young girl with an alcoholic, unemployed father and parents who separated when I was very young, causing a somewhat disturbing view of romantic relationships, an inability to handle feelings of abandonment and a talent for codependency which helped those situations occur again and again.  This stamped so many of my choices: living with a teacher my last two years of high school, not dating anyone until I met a young man outside of my hometown because of my fear of gossip and lack of self-esteem.  I succeeded academically, paid my way to college by winning scholarships and graduated at the top of my class.  But after that, I had no vision.  My future was a blank slate, black and empty.  I remember saying on graduation day that "If I died today, I would have had a very successful life."  Maybe I was hoping I would, but I didn't.  So I tried growing up instead.

I had to face reality.  I am a selfish person who tries every day not to be that way.  I want to be loved and needed and wanted, not just two out of three and I want it to be constant, but not suffocating.  I cannot bear suffocating.  So many years without my parents around constantly has given me a desire for distance along with a desperation and a clinginess which gets me into trouble sometimes.  (As well as a deep sorrow that I feel so alone even when surrounded by people who love me.)

So the five-year distance relationship I had with my first love would never have worked because I was too clingy.  The man who won me over persevered, pursued me, made me feel loved and cherished and spoiled me rotten.  I married him in a leap of faith that it won't last, not with my track record, but what the hell.

That was twenty years ago.  My story should be different now, one of a settled life of peace and contentment.  However, now I feel at the top of the highest hill in this roller coaster of life and nobody checked to see if my safety bar was fastened properly.

I wanted children but spent the first seven years of marriage waiting, working in retail sales and property management, trying to figure out my "career" path.  With no child in the oven, I leaped for graduate school and found a home at Harvard with a degree in Education Administration.  An EdM would change my life, change my story, wouldn't it?

It did, to a point.  However, two years into a position at Dartmouth, my first pregnancy superseded all.  I was going to be a MOM and I realized that was all I ever really wanted in my life.  I know that is selfish in its way, but I could not in good conscience pass my baby to someone else to raise if I was going to spend nine months carrying it under my heart.  I resigned from the position that I loved, figuring with an EdM, I could easily come back when I was ready.

I tried going back to work when my daughter was a toddler.  That was short lived with schedule conflicts for child care.  So, I volunteered for an alumni board, local schools and libraries and church in numerous capacities.  I have taught myself Microsoft Office Suite, Google Docs and many Google Drive apps; I have published poetry and articles; I am an amateur playwright and have produced several works regionally and performed in many more; I started teaching acting.  Surely all that volunteering and learning and publishing and teaching and my degrees would get me work when the time came. My second child is now 8, the oldest 13. Did I miss something?

So here is today, a mother of two part-time at a local school making slightly more than minimum wage and substituting if called on off days.  I teach acting and now vocals two hours a week in the evenings and have been applying for full-time work pretty steadily for the past several years to no avail.  My husband is only newly employed after several years with no benefits, mounting debt and eager to build a business.  He announced one day, "It's your turn to pay the bills, I have done my share." but I have as yet been able to reciprocate.  3 part-time jobs has not morphed into full-time stability.  I have rewritten my resume twenty, thirty, fifty times and while the newest one is showing promise, my "background" is getting in the way.  I have been penalized for being me: a Renaissance Mom in a specialized world.

Motherhood helped cripple my career.  As my administrative experience grew older and my current work in an elementary school drones on, my "track" is all over the map.  Seems like my only choice at this point is to become a certified teacher at age 45 and hope someone will see the kaleidoscope of talent that I possess as a valuable asset and not a hindrance.  Creative energy and ablility to problem-solve pours from these veins.  If only employers would stop looking at number of years performing a specific function and examine the candidate as a whole and his or her capacity to handle whatever comes their way.  I believe employers might find better employees for these quickly changing times or at least come to realize that Renaissance Moms have so more to offer in flexibility, organization and management.

So, I will persevere by singing to myself when another rejection comes along.  I hope that when I crest this hill, the screaming isn't too loud and the next corner has something to make me laugh and learn from.

Ah yes, so much for the productive, "I will write everyday to get the river of brain juice flowing" mantra.  The summer has gone.  When did I last write something?  I'd have to go back to the last post and check the date because I haven't a clue.  What I do know is I woke up this morning itching to work on a new script that was invading my dreams, but I have other things on my agenda, like oh I don't know, trying to find a way to make a living so I can find time to write all these amazing ideas down.  (Seriously, it has to do with a play version of a cooking show and there's this demon see, and the chef only got on the show because..)

But I digress.  I can't give away what I haven't written yet.  I just wish I could wake up, crawl into my writing cave and have at it.  Not so lucky.  Spent morning so far updating business cards into my Google contacts.  Yes, welcome to the delights of data entry!  Found a few names I haven't contacted in awhile, so maybe that will inspire some catching up, but I doubt it.  Sorry everyone.

Why do our worlds become so small?  Facebook helps open up the life a bit, but still all in all, when you start living to talk to people on FB who live so far away you never see them, I think that makes a lonely person feel even lonelier.  Lots of reaching out, but no real "touching," you know what I mean?  What I wouldn't give for a pub night with old friends.  I tell you what, at 7 pm tonight, I will be sure to raise a glass to you all and I ask that wherever you are, you do the same, okay?

Cheers to absent friends!  xox

So I am sitting here with a hot towel against my eyes to soothe the irritating itchiness of spring allergies.  While deciding whether or not I should just gouge my eyes out once and for all, I decided now is a great time to start blogging.

So I clicked on the link and suddenly, focused on something other than the legacy of freaked out reactions to everything that lives on the planet, my eyes start to water (I am NOT wearing my glasses) and the allergens are washed away.

Deep sigh. At last.

So, here is my first venture.  I am not sure how this blog will evolve, but I hope to discuss my point-of-view (from non-itchy eyeballs) and compare it to what is actually happening in the world around me because hey, my little world does revolve around me, I mean, who's my biggest fan?  Okay, I have said too much for now.

Have a rosy view today,
:)