When it's not what you thought it would be

Perhaps for some, their life is exactly what they imagined it would be — married/2 kids/picket fence, or perhaps independent/entrepreneur/nomad.   I figured by this time in my life that I would’ve fallen in love, married, and popped out a couple of kids.. Had a family, been successful, and all that good sh*t.

But it’s not. My life is a far cry from what I had hoped it would be.

I’ve never been one to be in long-term relationships. I probably have commitment issues — once being told “Sarah, you run from the good toward the bad.”   Seldom to exact lines stick in my head, but this one did. That’s probably part of my ‘single’ problem. Well, that and Disney. (Really, a prince is going to come along and whisk me off my feet? More like the fantasy in my head about random dude that I’m crushing on will whisk the rug from under my feet than carry me off into the sunset.)  But I digress. The fact that nothing has worked out is at least 50% my fault.

Back in 2007 I was tired of my self-employed life of a graphic designer, and decided to pursue a second degree.  I wanted to DO SOMETHING with my life, my career, my forty-plus hours a week that made the world a better place for people. I had some ridiculous altruistic fantasy that my life has some sort of purpose and meaning. That with my days, I could make the world a better place. When really, I need to just make my world better for me, because so many days I’m such a miserable fuck, that my time spent fantasizing about eco-friendly design and clean air were pretty much a waste.

So I went back to school. For three years, I busted my ass to earn a second bachelor’s degree, while still running my business full-time, keeping a house, a dog, a on- and off-again social life, and breaking up with the one guy that was probably the closest chance I had to fulfill my white picket fence dream.

But it was OK. It was all going to be great! I was going to get THE JOB. I was going to be a design researcher and strategist. Soemthing I would have guffawed previously, but during school realized that I enjoyed and was GOOD at doing this.

Hurrah! I can (help) save the world.

Or not.

Two years later, and what I thought was a respectable number of rejected job applications later (thanks to the ‘friend’ that told me I didn’t try hard enough enough. Which kind of like having someone spit on you after you’d already been kicked when you were down) I decided to stop trying to find a job. Apparently, I’m not qualified.

Or am I?

I started writing this post on Oct 2, 2012. I was feeling pretty shitty about myself that night, and have a part of this that I’ve deleted as it was just rambling of nothingness. But going back through all my posts and rereading this previously unfinished one, I decided that I needed to post it. Especially because in such a short period of time arriving to India and thoroughly changing my feelings and perspective in life, it was good to re-read this, to be reminded of how I’ve felt over the past couple of years about my “American Dream”

Negative? Yes. I was in a hole of negativity and sadness. For a while I was. Difficult when I first got back from China, and even more difficult as the months passed and no job offers came in. What the hell was I doing wrong? I felt as though I didn’t fit into my previous life in Denver, and was never as happy as I’d been before. But where was I supposed to go? What was I supposed to be doing?

When I finally decided to put my house on the market, everything seemed to go much faster and easier. I would say “I can’t find a job or a man, so I’m going to sell my house.” An act of desperation it seemed at times, but when I couldn’t do anything about the other two big deals in life, I went for another one.

My house sold in 12 hours. For the full amount. Cash deal. No appraisal, no inspection.

Uh, maybe I found my new path?

I’d decided that I was going to hold off on the job search for a while – until I returned from Everest – as I was sure this would be one of those ‘life changing, spiritual journeys’ that we’d all read about. (Did Julia Robert’s character get food poisoning in Eat Pray Love? They should’ve put that in there, then it would be more realistic).

Extending my 19-day Everest trip into a 51-day personal journey was perhaps the best decision I’d made in 18 months. Tho it wasn’t without stress (like am I really going to generate enough income in a very short amount of time to cover all my expenses for 7+ weeks of travel?!) Yes.  I was. And I did. Almost to the dollar (when I added up the final invoices) the money was there and off I went.

So maybe this isn’t white picket dream. Perhaps it’s better.

My new Serbian friend whom I met in Jaipur sent me this in an email yesterday (being Nov 6) And I think it wraps this up quite nicely.

With my better mindset and happier soul, I bid you goodnight.

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 My day made me think of a poem, that might as well ring a certain bell in your head:

The road not taken, by R. Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.