A few nights ago, I had a meaningful conversation with a friend and former workmate. Let’s call her Meg. The unique thing about Meg is that she is a clinical psychologist. That was who I wanted to be, professionally, in my 20’s. I still remember pushing through with my master’s degree in clinical psychology right after I graduated with honors from college. I was young and full of ideals then.
In the past few weeks and days, I have been gripped by a mood I’ll call, “professional envy.” It was not the conversation with Meg that started it. I am deeply envious of my boss’ rockstar career in marketing (he’s very rich). I am deeply envious of my honors’ class classmates who have various successes in careers related to my undergraduate training. (They are Trainers of Trainers; they are Department Heads, they are HR Bosses.)
Meanwhile, wee old me, I’m just a copywriter, Work-from-home mom. I’m a nobody with a megawatt educational background and an unused professional license. In short, I am mediocre. An average person with an average salary.
I have reflected on these thoughts for the past few weeks. They’ve woven in and out of my dreams. And finally, I have come into terms with Professional Envy.
First, no matter how many motivational quotes I come across in Facebook admonishing me to only compare myself with the older versions of myself, it still stings. The feeling is a mixture of sadness and regret. There is anger to, towards myself.
But what am I angry and sad about? What do I resent, regret?
The short answer is to these questions are, there are paths I did not take. And now, at the cusp of my 42nd birthday, I wish I took them. But I didn’t, and it’s ALL my fault.
At the same time, there is a voice inside my head that says, “Hey… I need to examine that last statement. Something’s wrong with it”. I know it’s not ALL my fault.
Where I am and what I do career-wise, is the outcome of a multifactorial process. I got here because of the unique qualities that make me who I am: a Chinese-Filipino woman, a person with anorexia, a person who experienced childhood emotional abuse. Plus, I was born with an average IQ (the standardized tests say so). I have an inclination for words. I have limits in terms of finances (I’m from a middle-class Chinoy family; we don’t own factories). In terms of talent, I am not as brilliant as my peers in college, I’m just awfully insistent.
Aside from the “me” factors, though, there were other elements that put me where I am today, writing from my home office. I realize I can’t separate these other factors from the personal factors. Other people came into my life, and I changed, we got changed, there was mutual transformation. The life I live right now is the result of some type of alchemy, which I have only some form and/or amount of control.
That’s how I got here—it was one hell of a ride.
This reflection has gotten me to conclude that hey, this mediocre life, it’s not ALL my fault.
Let’s subject that last statement to further examination: Whose judg-y voice is saying it anyway? And on that note, why the word “fault’? Is there something very wrong about making the choices I made because of my unique circumstances?
“Blame” and “guilt” and “fault”.
These are words with an undercurrent of fear—fear of what? Failure.
Anybody familiar with Stephen He’s YouTube videos will tell you that this is a by-word of Asian Parenting. As Asians, particularly of Chinese descent, failure in the eyes of your parents and relatives leads to shame, low self-esteem, and…
emotional damage (insert Stephen He’s memorable voice).
The Professional Envy I have, however, is seeded with a kernel of truth. All strong feeling are.
The truth beneath this feeling is the desire to belong. I want to be valued and loved by the society I was born into. For a long time, I wanted the prestige that comes with the title, “Psychologist”. With that title, I (wrongly) assumed, I’ll get other people’s respect.
Simply put, this is it: I want to feel loved and respected. I want a place where I meaningfully belong. These are what I deeply yearn for, desperately.
So, who do I want to please? Who are these people I want to belong to? Whose lives do I want to influence? Short answer: “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”
Right now, I’m getting ready to shed this old skin. I can’t do the psychologist job justice. When I was practicing, treating patients only caused me stress.
Be honest, Melany. It sucks for you. Quit already.
Why am I so hard on myself? Nobody is forcing me to choose be a psychologist.
Well, whose life is it anyway?
It’s mine, isn’t it? I should do as I please, do things that make me happy, do things that give me satisfaction and a good night’s sleep.
And what has always made me happy is writing. It always and forever has been writing.
Writing is where I find my source of power. You don’t need to pay me to write, I’ll write, just because I’m me.
I should count myself lucky that I can earn a living from my skill. Let’s be practical, I am no Chinoy tycoon heiress. I still need to hustle.
Also, another thing I actually like the rote of copywriting. Because of negative parental experience, I am drawn towards structure, routines. With my current job, I get my required dose of repetition, regime. Whereas some people find doing nearly the same thing over and over again suffocating, I find it reassuring. My work does have just the right twinge of variation to distinguish the days. But nothing erratic here, oh no.
This calm, nearly predictable environment is the ideal environment for me. Like a plant in the right type of soil, I will thrive. Maybe I won’t grow thunder fast, but my will incrementally grow.
In hindsight, it is ok to feel Professional Envy. My past colleague Meg, my boss, and all my high-level classmates, they have spent more than 10 years doing their jobs. They have mature careers. I have only just begun.
I’ll exercise some self-compassion here.
What will I advise as a (former) psychologist a person who just did a mid-life career change? A person who took on a new job? A mom who went back to work after ten years of full-time child rearing?
I would advice this person to work on her own terms. I would ask her to discern her priorities, then custom-fit her career to her life’s circumstances.
I realize now that if I take my own advice, I won’t feel so hardly hit by Professional Envy. Rather, I would be spurred to pursue my dreams—at my own pace, and on my own race.
