I have spent the past week trying to write this post.
I have written words on words on words only to ctrl + a + backspace (because I am using a Chromebook, not a Mac or Windows). I am not entirely sure why I can not seem to get this post “right”.
This post goes back further than this week’s This Is Us post (I’ll get to that in a bit). It goes back an entire week before when a co-worker was talking to me about another co-worker. The subjective co-worker I was told was better than the job they are currently doing. Which just happens to be the same job I do. And “everyone knows it”. The subjective co-worker, in almost exact words, will not be answering phones for 20-years.
The funny thing is I am not someone who thinks ANYONE is better than ANY JOB. Just like I do not think ANYONE is better than anyone else. Just because you have letters behind your name, or a rank before your name does not mean you’re above taking the garbage out every once and awhile. You know that quote about how you should speak to the janitor with the same respect you would talk to someone else… or the quote on how someone treats the waitstaff speaks volumes about them as a person.
I am not saying that the person who was the topic of the conversation is not destined for “better things” than answering the phone. I am sure they are. I hope they are. I hope they find their place in this world. But having someone look me in the face and tell me in so many words that I am only “good enough” to answer the phones. Maybe I am looking too far into that conversation which is why I have been marinating in this post for a while. Trying to not sound like I am whiny. Trying to find what was said in the words not actually said. But two weeks after the fact, I still feel the same way.
I know people don’t mean to be insensitive but the intention doesn’t make the comments hurt any less.
Hurt people, hurt people. I get it.
I have to figure it must be hard for someone in their position to see someone content with less.
People can’t always control who their circumstances turn them into.
But HOW DARE THEY. F*ck you.
Which brings me to this week’s episode of This Is Us. We get to see Rebecca and Jack get together. We see that Rebecca had a very serious relationship before Jack and we learned that Rebecca had very real dreams of being a singer. She wanted to go to LA and sing. She gave up on the relationship (before Jack) to pursue her dreams. Rebecca did not want to grow up to just wait for her husband as her mother did. Rebecca watched her mother tend to her father’s every whim; to have dinner waiting on the table for when her father got home. Rebecca did not want that for herself.
When we see Jack and Rebecca get back together Rebecca asks Jack a question, do you have a dream? Jack’s eventual answer is he just wants to be happy.
It had me thinking. Do I have a dream? Have I ever had a dream?
There have been things I thought I wanted to be when I grew up. I could tell you all of them if you asked. I remember really clearly saying what I did not want to do. And guess what happened – all the things I remember not wanting to come to fruition. But all the things that I thought I did not want are actually the things I think I am pretty good at.
I think I am a pretty good mother and wife. And I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up but I know I want to be happy.
I am surrounded by so many unhappy people. People that won’t admit it to themselves that they are unhappy. People that are unhappy about their lives and their marriages. People who gamble; people who tell others that they need hobbies because they like a certain sappy television program. People who put others down for having department store purses. People who put others down for answering the phones. People who talk about others behind their backs. People who spend ridiculous money on things to cover up the hurt in their lives. People who gossip. People who think their time is far too precious to clean their own homes. People who buy designer clothes in an attempt to cover up their ugly hearts with a name brand across their chest.
If those are the products of having a dream and following it. I’m good.
I wish someone would tell these people that it’s okay to realize the reality did not match the dream and that it’s maybe not as great as it seemed. That even though you are living your dream you can’t have and do it all. You are not allowed to get up on your soap box and tell someone you’re less than because you’re not happy.
Somehow things have always worked out when I needed them to. I believe everything leads to something else. So for this stage in my life, this is what I am supposed to be – a mother and a wife. That is what I’m supposed to be focusing on.
Sending humans into the world is no small feet and I watch a lot of people get it wrong a lot of the time.
Will I be answering those phones for 20-years, probably. It’ll probably be 30-something years by the time I’m ready to NYS to start paying me my pension. Those phones keep the lights on and help pay the mortgage. The mortgage that will be paid off before I even hit 20-years with the department. Those phones will help get my kids through college. I am not better than answering the phones. No one is. Those phones are serving their purpose right now.
When this stage comes to an end there will be something else for me to do. It may not involve a title but it’ll be something I’m ready for. I don’t know what it will be, I never have before but I do know I’ll at least be happy.