I am a workaholic. Not by intention nor identification. In fact, I would say I just recently realized I even had an issue. . . But when I look closer, it’s been about 10 years in the making.
I worked three jobs to pay my way through college. If you include actually going to school, it would be justifiable to say I worked four jobs. During those years of work and school, habits were created to simply “get the job done”. Every minute had a purpose or assignment to it. There were no ‘wasted’ minutes.
Two weeks after graduating, I started a position with one of the “Big Four” firms- some fancy exclusive name given to an elite set of four universal accounting & auditing firms. Receiving a position with them signified significance in the world of finance- it was a trophy to hang on your resume, proving you were deemed by someone somewhere the ‘best of the best’. Instead, it felt like a clothing factory back in the early 1900’s, a sweatshop. Once you accepted a position with them, they treated you like property, worked you to the bone, demanded your best 12 to 17 hours a day. They relieved themselves of their guilt by buying you a beer ‘on the firm’, as if to stroke their own ego and remind you how lucky you were to be there.
I can’t really blame them- I did accept a position with them. I was free to leave at any time. But I didn’t. My friends and family got put on hold- parties got ignored, phone calls were never returned, responses to emails (if any) typically were one or two sentences. It became a battle to prove to the firm they made a good decision and it was worth it at any cost.
Why did I ever believe them?
I constantly questioned when I would leave, at what point was it enough.
Finally, I did leave elated at the prospect of reclaiming my life back, only to find I had accepted a position with a company that had a similar mind set. And so the battle to prove oneself to Corporate America began all over again.
Eventually, I was able to cut ties to the auditing & accounting world. I enjoyed finance and landed on my feet as a financial representative. Sounds good, huh? Turns out I was self employed. And anyone who has started their own business knows that the first few years you put your all into it. And so the cycle began again. This time there was hope that I was doing it for me and not Corporate America, that it would all payoff in the end, and one day soon, I would be working very small amounts of time and receiving handsome rewards.
The dream was starkly jolted when one of my dearest friends shared with me that her and her husband were moving out of state. I had finally gotten my practice to place where it was a well oiled machine- I could begin to focus on my life and get it back into balance. I was going to be able to spend time with all those people I cared about, return a phone call in a reasonable time frame, go out for a beer and not be wishing I was in bed sleeping, answer an email with depth and intention- IT WAS FINALLY MY TIME!
But it was too late. My friends needed to move forward with their lives and with this particular friend, that included accepting an amazing job offer elsewhere.
Never in the last ten years would I ever imagined that I was a workaholic. In the wake of my dreams and passions for a well balanced life and secure future, I had overlooked the gifts that were right in front of me. . . And so came a deep introspective period of “what the hell is this all for anyways?”.
Thus, the birth of my blog- my desire in starting this blog and sharing the process with you is in hopes of sharing my story I may encourage you in yours. I have no set agenda or purpose with this blog, simply to take notice of the little instances every day we overlook, the instances that are put in our days to remind us about what we do and who we are. I don’t want to let them pass me by unnoticed. I want to see them, feel them, embrace them, celebrate them. It will be a process and one that I am excited to explore, as if unwrapping layers only to find another or unpacking a gift only to find a smaller one inside, always expectant and excited until you come to the last box or unwrap the last layer to find your treasure.
For the record, I do not believe the last ten years have been a waste. Somehow in between the long hours at work, I managed to make and sustain relationships and friendships that will last my whole life, with depth and vulnerability that opened doors for growth and love. When I reflect upon those successes, successes of the soul, heart, and mind, I wonder if it would have been possible if I was not in a constant state of vulnerability. What I may have viewed as the enemy- the never ending job- may have just been the exact catalyst that propelled riches in friendships and relationships beyond my wildest imagination.
