When I Grow Up

When I grow up, I want to be…

Remember when you were little and people asked you "what do you want to be when you grow up?" Like pretty much every other little girl I went through my vet phase and teacher phase. As I grew up though, I realized that I would never EVER be able to put an animal to sleep and I have ZERO patience for kids who don't do their homework. Scratch vet and teacher off the list.

When I got to college I began my freshman year as an undecided. I thought about everything from English to Communication Disorders. I have varied interests. I really felt like I could do lots of things. But what I really wanted to be was a mom. A stay-at-home mom to be exact. I could never find tons of motivation to pick a particular major because I never saw myself as a career woman.

Graphic design was always in the back of my mind. I loved the design experience that I had, but I also LOVED the idea of working part-time or maybe even from home. That was the deciding factor for me. I enrolled in the art program at the end of my freshman year.

Looking back, graphic design might have been a mistake. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED my college career. I had a blast in my program and really felt good about my chances upon graduation. But three and a half years out, my confidence is nil. There are several reasons for this, but bottom line, I don't feel good about putting myself out there. I think like a lot of college graduates, I had an idealized image of what a college degree equals. I felt that even with a super specialized degree, I'd be fine. A college degree from the University of Georgia equals solid employment, right? As I've come to learn, not always. Do I still think I can do design work? Definitely. But with zero post graduation work, my portfolio still consists of school projects. I can't imagine hiring me. I think the only chance of a job in design would be someone that knows me and knows what I can do.

So what's next for me? Good question. I wish I knew. I recently read somewhere that in this age of post-recession, poor job market, finding the best fit isn't always about your degree. It's about finding some happiness whether that be in salary, job security, promotions, or job satisfaction. They recommended thinking not about what you want to do, but about where you've been most happy. Past job experiences in which you were happy may lead in a different direction, but that's okay.

For me, past job pickings are slim. There was a lot of waitressing and that is certainly not my job of choice. Without a doubt, the place I was happiest was working as in intern for my church doing graphic design. Interestingly, the design work was not what made me happy. I enjoyed my work, the day passed quickly, I had an outlet for my creativity; all of that was great. But that's not why I loved my job. I loved the people. I felt like I was a part or something that mattered.

I think that's my take away. It is not in me nature to be a workaholic. I'm a hard worker for sure, but I guess I've always known where my priorities lie, and that's at home with my family. I tend to be frustrated with most of my jobs. I end up grouchy or discouraged, frustrated or apathetic. But working at my church I felt appreciated, valued, engaged; therefore, I loved my job.

Sam loves to work. Really. He could align soup cans all night and love his job. He's rarely frustrated, rarely discouraged. He enjoys a day's work for a day's wages. That's just not me. I can't really imagine how much I'd have to earn to not care what I'm doing, but it would be a lot. The money is just not the motivating factor for me. I need something beyond a paycheck to find satisfaction.

Even now, when the more I make, the faster I can try IVF, I still want something more. I want to work for good people. I want to be a part of an organization that I can respect. I want to feel like I'm doing something, helping someone. I want it to matter.

Part of me wants to hold out, to wait for the perfect job. The selfish part of me wants to find a job that makes me happy. I remember how much I hated my last job and I don't want to be that miserable again. The realistic part of me says money is money and my happiness at work won't be quite so critical once the bank account is full.

My goal is IVF. To meet my goal, I need a job. The faster I get a job, the faster I can attempt to make a baby. For the sake of our family (and my sanity) I need to put myself out there, risk rejection, and start bringing home a paycheck. My future child depends on it.