The Tough Question

Turning 40 this year I find that I’m asking myself the big question.  Like Brian Johnson in The Breakfast Club as he struggles to write his essay for Mr. Vernon, I’m asking myself, “Who am I?”  I don’t think this is unusual; after all, the phrase “Midlife Crisis” exists for a reason.  The difference; however, is that I’m not like a lot of forty year olds today.  I didn’t go to college right out of high school and then get married and have kids.  I don’t have a mid-level managerial job working for some large corporation with his and her SUVs parked in the garage of my of four bedroom home in the suburbs.  In fact, I’m a strong, independent single woman who has, on occasion, found the courage to take some risks in my life. 

In 2005 I had a “good” job with the local government.  It’s the kind of job most people get and don’t leave until they retire.  The benefits are plentiful and cheap and the job itself is cake once you learn it.  No one expects you to do any more or any less than what is listed on your job description.  If you show up for work on time, leave when you’re supposed to, use your vacation time and don’t make any waves you’re virtually ensured of never being fired; unless, of course, budget cuts force a layoff.  But that’s a problem for a different time.  The public sector job is the road my mother traveled and it served her well, I think. She’s 62 years old and now enjoying retired life.  I couldn’t be happier for her, truly.  But that road wasn’t for me.  I grew bored quickly and after three and half years of service I came to work one day and gave notice.  I did not have another job lined up; in fact, I had no idea what I would do.  I gave my employer four weeks notice which gave them ample time to find a replacement and myself ample time to find another job. And I did find another job.  I went to work as an appeals coordinator for an insurance company.  That brought up a whole new set of issues. 

The best thing I can say about handling insurance appeals is that it was definitely never boring.  I was so busy that my days flew by before I had the time to even realize that they’d begun.  Of course, any insurance appeal means that some poor soul is being denied medical coverage.  I’ve learned that there are two things in life that most folks have no sense of humor about – their money and their health.  I cannot even tell you how many times I was yelled at by an insured who was not getting the drug their doctor told them they needed or a procedure they were sure was going to save their loved one’s life.  As disheartened as that job made me feel, it was actually the people who ran the insurance company that made me feel that I was selling my soul.  Their antiquated management style and focus on the bottom line rather than people left me feeling impotent and hopelessly unfulfilled.  So again, without having another job lined up, I gave notice. 

Five years later there are still times when I marvel at the fact that I had the guts to do that not once, but twice.  There are probably people out there who think that my actions were irresponsible; after all, I have a mortgage to pay and a dog to feed.  But I never felt irresponsible.  What I did feel was compelled to do something “more” with my life.  And I felt proud that I was able to see that this pattern I’d fallen into wasn’t working for me.  Instead of simply finding another job this time I decided to go back to school.  I was sure that having an education was going to open the doors necessary for me to have the life I wanted – a life full of purpose and meaning. 

Oh boy was I wrong. 

Almost two years after graduating from college not a weekday morning goes by that I don’t look at myself in the mirror before leaving for work and wince a little.  “Who have become and how did I get back here?” I ask myself.  It’s not that my job is awful.  Compared to the jobs I had previously my current job is gravy.  But I’m still a slave.  Every morning I wake up only to do what someone else wants me to do – my boss, my boss’ stakeholders, my customers…  It has been said that if you love what you do then you’ll never work a day in your life.  I don’t know very many people who have accomplished that though.  Sometimes when I get stopped at a light on my way to work in the morning I’ll look at the people driving the cars that pass in front of me.  I assume that they are on their way to their jobs too and I wonder, “Are they content with their lives?”

Most of my friends have families and they’re more concerned with soccer schedules, piano recitals and paying for their kids’ education than they are about their personal goals and ambitions.  They’re too busy to be bothered by such silly matters.  Sometimes I think that if I’d decided to get married and have a family that I wouldn’t be so concerned with things like self fulfillment and making the world a better place.  I wouldn’t be stuck asking myself, “Who am I?”

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