Broken Wings.
From the moment I lost my job, all of my time, energy, effort, blood, sweat and tears have been spent trying to find another one. Every other aspect of my life immediately went on the back burner. Only in the 3rd week did I start to do a few things for myself, such as going for a run outside, passionately pursue my craft in hopes of becoming a published writer, and savored a number of 2+ hour long, overdue conversations catching up with long distant friends.
I’ve sifted through countless job postings, written numerous personalized cover letters, and flooded inboxes of every single solitary network from the last decade. I would definitely be considered a stalker and earned myself a restraining order if my relentless pursuit was toward a man instead of a profession.
Having finally taken a few moments here and there to reflect on the scope of my life beyond monetary means, a subject I haven’t put much thought into in a while weighed heavy on my mind today — my future husband.
Shopping for a sidekick is essentially the same concept as finding a job. Dates = Interviews. Referrals from friends = Referrals from past employers. Probationary period of proving you’re for real and earning someone’s trust and heart = Probationary period of proving yourself in the office and earning respect of colleagues. Taking a relationship to a new level = Getting a promotion. The similarities go on and on.
I’ve always felt very confident in my career. My reviews have consistently been stellar. And I can taste my goal of climbing the corporate ladder. But when it comes to finding a romantic partner, a lifelong best friend to love me unconditionally, to support me, push me, see the best in me just as I am — that seems like a distant dream.
Dating has been nothing short of a headache. Sure there have been fun times along the way, but overall, it has been laced with disappointment. Just as encouraging supporters tell me I’ll find a job and it’ll all be OK, they also tell my spouse is out there.
And although I am squeezing onto My Faith and cutting off circulation in the process, this is the first time in my life that two major areas are completely up in the air and it can feel a bit suffocating. There is no security, there is only the unknown.
A long time ago while going through a quarter life crisis around the cusp of gradating college, I was diagnosed with an adjustment disorder. But really, when you think about it, who loves change? It can be daunting, uncomfortable and debilitating. Lucky for me, I have a human safety net in the form of friends and family who make the metamorphosis transition just a little less scary. I’m excited and anxious to bust out of this cramped cocoon and start the next chapter of my flight.
