When I began this blog way back when, I wanted a new life. However, I did not know what it would look like or how I would get it. Many of you watched as I stumbled along for years in search of this new life. I realized the other day that I have now found it, slowly, rising out of an underpinning of what looked and felt like failures, but what I now see as blessings in disguise.
It all started with a really bad day at work when I still lived in that southern state. I lost a huge client due to a change in the decision-maker and did not know how I was going to replace that client. Then I realized, this frees me up to leave--I no longer need to rely on being that client's "Texas person." So I redoubled my efforts to get my firm to transfer me to Chicago.
The first time I tried to make that transfer happen, it didn't work out. I still don't know all the reasons why, but they opted not to transfer me. I was heartbroken and felt stuck. But I sucked it up, kept faith that it might happen and kept working hard. Finally, a year later, I saw an opening and pushed hard to squeeze through it. And it worked! My transfer was approved.
Within two months, I rehabbed the house I had left in terrible condition for most of the ten years I owned it, whittled down my belongings, packed, consigned stuff and drove across the country to begin a new life in Chicago. I loved the little apartment I rented, loved being in the city I adore and swallowed deeply over the fact that the job was not any better than the one I left behind in Dallas. The city can make up for it, I thought to myself. I was able to keep the excitement going when, the next summer, my Dallas house sold and I was able to buy a charming condo that I still adore.
Then, at the end of that first summer in Chicago, I surprised myself by having a boyfriend for the first time in years, one I have a huge crush on (still, after first meeting him 18 years ago). I never expected this to be an outcome of my move, but was thrilled and grateful to find love when I had pretty much given up on it.
The job rolled along, with my level of misery building until, finally, I lost the job. I did not think it was possible to be more miserable than I was at that firm. But fear and panic at the idea of extended unemployment and the possibility of losing one's home are poor substitutes for the misery I had left behind. For months, I sent out dozens of resumes, with nary an interview or callback. The panic came and went, growing stronger every time it returned; I did not know what to do.
So, I made other plans, studying for the GRE, taking the GRE and applying to a graduate program that is excellent and competitive. I highly doubt I will be accepted to that program, but it felt good to try.
While I was focused on all of that, I was called in for an interview--my first! The job is so different than my law firm role--in public service, working for a female boss for the first time in decades, a person who seems smart and funny and genuine and open, so much so that she told me how much she likes me at the end of our hour and a half interview.
Lo and behold, a few days later, I was offered that job! I start on January 2nd.
So, to review, only eight years to find: city I love, condo I love, man I love, and now, a job I think I will love. It took a while to get here, but it sure was worth the wait. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
It all started with a really bad day at work when I still lived in that southern state. I lost a huge client due to a change in the decision-maker and did not know how I was going to replace that client. Then I realized, this frees me up to leave--I no longer need to rely on being that client's "Texas person." So I redoubled my efforts to get my firm to transfer me to Chicago.
The first time I tried to make that transfer happen, it didn't work out. I still don't know all the reasons why, but they opted not to transfer me. I was heartbroken and felt stuck. But I sucked it up, kept faith that it might happen and kept working hard. Finally, a year later, I saw an opening and pushed hard to squeeze through it. And it worked! My transfer was approved.
Within two months, I rehabbed the house I had left in terrible condition for most of the ten years I owned it, whittled down my belongings, packed, consigned stuff and drove across the country to begin a new life in Chicago. I loved the little apartment I rented, loved being in the city I adore and swallowed deeply over the fact that the job was not any better than the one I left behind in Dallas. The city can make up for it, I thought to myself. I was able to keep the excitement going when, the next summer, my Dallas house sold and I was able to buy a charming condo that I still adore.
Then, at the end of that first summer in Chicago, I surprised myself by having a boyfriend for the first time in years, one I have a huge crush on (still, after first meeting him 18 years ago). I never expected this to be an outcome of my move, but was thrilled and grateful to find love when I had pretty much given up on it.
The job rolled along, with my level of misery building until, finally, I lost the job. I did not think it was possible to be more miserable than I was at that firm. But fear and panic at the idea of extended unemployment and the possibility of losing one's home are poor substitutes for the misery I had left behind. For months, I sent out dozens of resumes, with nary an interview or callback. The panic came and went, growing stronger every time it returned; I did not know what to do.
So, I made other plans, studying for the GRE, taking the GRE and applying to a graduate program that is excellent and competitive. I highly doubt I will be accepted to that program, but it felt good to try.
While I was focused on all of that, I was called in for an interview--my first! The job is so different than my law firm role--in public service, working for a female boss for the first time in decades, a person who seems smart and funny and genuine and open, so much so that she told me how much she likes me at the end of our hour and a half interview.
Lo and behold, a few days later, I was offered that job! I start on January 2nd.
So, to review, only eight years to find: city I love, condo I love, man I love, and now, a job I think I will love. It took a while to get here, but it sure was worth the wait. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
