I had been toying around with the idea of going back to work for some time now. I started this blog to keep busy and to provide myself and others an outlet during our midlife years. What I lacked however, was the motivation to self promote. I’ve sat at my laptop, typed out my feelings, challenges and crazy thoughts but never really promoted myself. No videos, no constant Facebook posts, just me and my random thoughts once in a while. I was picked up in Australia and England somehow (thank you all) and some of my friends followed me and some did not. I didn’t care, I’m the kind of person who could be alone in a room and laugh at my own jokes. I enjoyed every second even though there’s only a handful of people paying attention to my internal thoughts.
I started to bore myself. The kids were obviously getting older and I found the monotonous tone of laundry machines, counter cleaning, and the dreaded visits to the grocery store as the banes of my existence. I would take forever to do a single task because I knew I had time and would get irritated when my husband wouldn’t share his thoughts about his day at work. Over the years he would seek me out for input and advice (we met at work) and when he didn’t continue to share some of those stories with me, I discovered that I needed to create some of my own.
My first step was to interview with a temp agency right after I got my old fart ankle surgery. I couldn’t go into the office for an interview because I could hardly walk, but thought that it would be a good first step (pardon the pun) towards getting back into the game. Nothing. Nada. Not a call, not an opportunity, and not a chance was given. We would speak from time-to-time but they just couldn’t find me the right TEMPORARY JOB. Sorry I yelled there.
I have to tell you that I truly felt pathetic. Sad. A little lost. I stopped writing. I stopped exercising. I stopped reading. I would wake up in the morning feeling like there was a dead weight on top of my chest, and I felt depressed, not wanting to wake up in the morning. I’m a pretty positive person so this inevitably made me even more sick of my own shit.
Then I got angry. This wasn’t it was it? This was my life? Now I just wait for the husband to retire? For the kids to grow? For my ass to want to haul back to the gym? We all know that’s NOT happening. So this is the part where many of you took matters into your own hands. Maybe you sold the newest health shake, makeup, plasticware or clothes. I get it, I really do. I’m sorry I don’t come to your parties, especially now.
I decided to do something different and spoke to my husband about starting our own company. We dove in headfirst, launched this past summer and here’s the god’s honest truth about how it’s going:
I have my “what the hell did I do this for” moments every single day. I also have great days where I feel challenged, motivated and am learning so much about the fact that I’ve still got it and I can still shine. I’ve caught up with the latest buzz words and am no longer doubting myself. I cried over my new headshots because I’m 51 and I look a bit dumpy and I definitely feel like I’m aging in a way that I haven’t truly felt at any birthday at any moment in my life. The truth has now smacked me….no…it’s smashed me in the face. The lines are clearly visible, the face looks a bit saggy and no photograph, even my own selfies look very stunning.
Sometimes I want to crawl into a ball and cry about the aging and physical changes. How the hell does anyone do this gracefully? Of course I do what every stupid women does when going through some kind of change, I color and cut my hair so I feel worse about myself. I colored it back to my natural color and lopped it all off. Now I look like an old little boy.
I’m laughing at myself right now..hold on!
I wrote this because I want you to know it’s all bullshit. If you want to go back to work, just do it and don’t listen to anyone, not your friends, not your family and not the recruiter. You have a brain and you don’t need to start from an entry-level job. It’s such utter bullshit that society tells us. Just go out there and dare to live. Do something. Go have fun. Volunteer if you don’t want to deal with corporate life. Passionate about working out? We are probably not friends but go work at a gym.
Get the damn botox, tattoo or eye lashes or whatever the hell you want because guess what? It about ten years there will be NOTHING you can do. NOTHING WOMAN! Do you hear me? That shit stops working. So enjoy the last tender improvements that you can.
And whatever you do my friends, don’t stop living.