X = Career

Sometimes I wonder which dominates my thoughts more: my general unhappiness with my body or my general unhappiness with my salary and, by default, my career. I know I’m not the only one who dreads seeing my Alumnae Quarterly in the mailbox. In the back is a listing by class of what people have been up to. At this point the people in my class are either earning their PhDs or having a baby, and I’m jealous of both. Lately I’ve been of the opinion that a bachelor’s degree isn’t worth anything anymore. I think a BA is what a high school diploma was 50 years ago. To get anywhere in a career you need a higher degree, but there’s no subject that I’m interested in enough to actually pursue. As a result, I’m one of the few people I know who doesn’t have one, which would probably explain why I make the least amount of money. This frustrates me. A lot. I’ve always had a problem with comparing myself to my friends. In some ways it’s served me by motivating me to work harder, to be smart, to finish at the top of the pack; in other ways it’s really contributed to a constant feeling of inadequacy. If I told you where I worked, you’d probably be impressed. But my job isn’t as challenging as I need it to be and there’s very little room for upward movement. My job fits my interests in a lot of ways and it’s not very stressful. I also have a lot of vacation, which I appreciate. But I have no passion for what I do. I basically do the minimum needed to appear to be doing a good job. I have no interest in being an expert in my field. I have no momentum.

I bring this up cautiously because I don't want to feel sorry for myself or neglect the number of people in this country or the world who make so little and are barely holding their heads above water. But I think it's inevitable that we want to try to progress our lives as far as we can, it's human. I'm fortunate to have had the opportunities I've been given, I just really want to make the most of them and not let them go to waste. This is something I think about all the time, but it’s at the top of my mind after a conversation with a friend last night.

She’s in her third year of her PhD program. We just found out that a friend of ours is buying a house. Any milestone like that for a friend of mine usually makes me feel jealous of their accomplishment, even though I’m happy for them. As I was talking to my PhD friend I found out she felt the same way. She’s the only one out of our group of friends who isn’t in a serious, long-term relationship. That’s one of the things she measures herself by against her friends. I was trying to make her feel better by telling her I felt the same way about her because of her PhD. And then she said, “But even when I’m done I have to do a post-doc, and that only pays [insert my salary here] a year.” So I told her what I make to make her feel better. And it just made me feel worse and now I can’t stop thinking about it. You'd be surprised by how often this happens, "God, back when I was only making [insert my salary here]..." I realize there's the danger that my friends are going to sound money-obsessed, which none of them are. They are incredible people who inspire me, who are kind and compassionate, who do so much for people. I'm the one with the problem. I feel stalled, like I haven't progressed at the right pace, like my growth is stunted.

I want to be in a career that provides some financial stability, allows me to have the choice of being the one who works while my husband stayed home with the kids, makes me feel good when I tell people what I do for a living, provides me with ambition and passion. For so long I’ve felt that I have a lot of potential, that if I really worked hard I could do something really impressive. With each day that I come to work, feel bored, and go home with a paycheck that feels completely inadequate, I feel like a failure. Did my generation grow up believing too much in ourselves? Should I just feel lucky to be in a country where I have the luxury of worrying about this kind of thing?

If only I had an idea of what I wanted to be when I grow up. Well, I know what I want to be when I grow up: an Oscar-winning screenwriter. But that’s not going to happen. Why am I such a defeatist? Why don’t I just try? Because being a screenwriter in Los Angeles is the worst cliché ever. Because I don’t think I can actually do it. Because it’s not something most people can make a living at. Because it doesn’t feel like a real career for someone like me. But I also don’t want to give up. I’m too young for giving up. I have the dream and the desire, so where’s the motivation and momentum? Why is it so hard to try to be myself?