Thursday, March 12, 2015

I will, or I won't.

Tomorrow is my next interview: my third formal interview (after three informal interviews) for The Dream Job.  I'm nervous: how could I not be?  I have far less than the 5-7 years of experience suggested in the job description...and I really, really, really want this job.  It would be a major pay raise, but more than that it would be working for an organization that I deeply believe in, doing work that is personally meaningful to me.

And here's the thing: I will either get it, or I won't.  Tomorrow's interview will go well, or it won't.  This is the job, or it it isn't.  I will put my heart into it, I've put a lot of effort into my career these past few years, and I will give it my all.

And then it's out of my hands.

There is always someone more qualified.  Someone who knows more people than I do (and in my career, networking matters!).  Someone who is prettier, smarter more polished.  There's always someone better dressed, with one more degree than I have, with one more reference.  I could panic about that, of course - I really REALLY want this job, and what if one of those "more"people swoops in and takes what I want so much?

Then it will be okay.  I will cry a bit, or feel sad, or mourn in some other way, and then I will be fine.  I'll go back to my not-perfect job and keep working, and I'll look at the next opportunity.

This is how life goes, and I've come to the realization that it's the same for all of us: it works, or it doesn't.  Good things happen, or bad things happen.  But the thing is, sometimes these things are totally out of our control, no matter how well we do the right thing,'s okay.

I ate organic food.  I breastfed my daughter for 13 months.  I maintained a healthy weight.  I exercised.  I never smoked.  And yet?  I got breast cancer anyway.  And then I hoped that I would only need a lumpectomy, but they ended up removing both of my breasts, and then some, and I was somehow still okay.  I wept, I mourned, but here I am.  My fake breasts aren't very pretty (that's an understatement) but they don't define me, except as reminders of how strong I had to be to do all of that.  I lost all those battles - getting cancer, losing breasts - and yet I am alive.

I met a man, I married him, I promised to love, honor, and cherish.  I kept my promise, but he did not keep his.  I mourned, I wept, I bought lingerie, I tried turning the other cheek, I did counseling, I stood up for myself, I worked hard on being a better wife and a better person, I encouraged him to be his best and happiest self.....and I got a divorce anyway.  He did not love me (or at least he certainly didn't behave like he did!), and I did not die of the heartache of being unloved.

It works, or it doesn't.  What's amazing is that we have so much invested in things working out the way that we hoped, and yet often it doesn't work out in our favor....and we're okay.  Somehow, despite the disappointments and pain and loss, time just continues, and the world spins, and somehow we are still a part of that world, and it's okay.

I want this job.  I want it so badly that it's a bit frightening, actually.  But if I don't get it, time will go on.  I will continue mothering my daughter, with love and joy.  I will sit by the sea and marvel at the waves on the pebbles, such a soothing sound.  I will go for hikes, I will write stories, I will walk my dog, I will drink wine with girlfriends.  Whatever happens, as long as I'm here and Katherine and I are healthy....I am okay.

But I'm still hoping for the yes.

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