Empire State Building

March 2007 - photo by JMW

This picture used to make me shudder, and if I’m honest, it still does, a little bit.

For a long time, I buried this photo in an attempt to try and forget what the image represented – a woman who was pretty miserable because she was certain she was a failure.  At the time this picture was taken, I had stopped working on my Ph.D. (an endeavor that had occupied nearly fifteen years of my life), was working as a low-wage receptionist at a veterinary clinic, and was in a relationship that was well on its way to failing.

I was depressed, demoralized, and disconnected from both family and friends, and I couldn’t see how I was ever going to turn things around and find joy in life again.

I thought there was something terribly wrong with me, and that  if I just “tried harder” I could make it all work.  After all, “other people” didn’t seem to be having the problems I was having.  ”Other people” coped with challenges and overcame obstacles so much better than I did.  If I was unhappy, then it must be my fault because “other people” were making it work.

The problem was that I didn’t have any concrete evidence of who these “other people” were or exactly what they were doing.  All I could see was what was on the outside, and since I couldn’t see inside “other people’s” situations (and I didn’t dare ask questions since that would have exposed my weaknesses), I couldn’t figure out how “they” were doing it so much better than I was.

That winter, J. suggested that perhaps we should travel to New York in celebration of my 40th birthday.  I was enthusiastic about the trip, but a part of me didn’t want to go because I felt so ashamed of who I was – of who I’d become.

I knew I’d gained a lot of weight over the years, and I didn’t want to embarrass J. (who is one of the most fashionable women I know) by showing up in New York City looking like a frumpy (and decidedly un-cosmopolitan) tourist.  J. calmly reassured me that she didn’t care what I looked like, the trip was about her and I spending time together in a place that offered us the chance to explore and discover new things.

I don’t know if she knew it then, but she threw me the lifeline that pulled me back from the edge of the abyss.

The four days we spent in New York City rekindled my spirit, and reignited my desire to live a life of purpose; to learn; to grow; to change!  I came back from the trip inspired by all that we’d done and seen, and I immediately began to make changes.  Not all of the changes were well received, nor were they done the “right” way, but the point was that I could now see that there was more to life than what I’d been living – and I wanted something more.

This did not bode well for my relationship, and a year and a half later, I called it quits and moved out.  It was scary to be on my own after ten years of living with my ex-partner, and a part of me wondered if I’d be able to actually make it on my own.

October 2008 - photo by JMW

The support of family and friends pulled me through the roughest patches, and I soon found myself loving life in a way that I hadn’t for a very long time.

I’d begun losing weight during the breakup, but I soon found myself plateauing and unable to get past the first 35 pounds. Frustrated by my lack of progress, I retreated into some bad habits that I’d developed as a means of trying to control situations that felt completely out of my control (going long periods of time without eating anything), and was frustrated as I backslid.

It was at that point that D., ever the pragmatic realist, served up a whopping dose of honesty and sparked a change in my direction.  As I complained about my inability to make myself eat on a regular basis and spun out theory after theory about why I simply couldn’t do  this, he matter-of-factly said, “I don’t get it.  It’s simple.  Put food in your mouth.  Chew. Swallow.  Problem solved.”

At first I was pissed at his unemotional response to what felt like a deeply emotional issue.  How could he possibly understand the difficulty of eating on a regular basis?  I stubbornly refused to believe that the solution was that simple, so D. let it go and left me to my theorizing.

It wasn’t until the personal trainer I hired (to help me organize workouts and re-evaluate my diet) went through my food diaries and commented that I was undoing all of the work I’d done by denying my body the proper nutrition it needed to run efficiently, that I began to understand that there was merit in what D. had said months before.  However, I stubbornly resisted the trainer’s advice until he finally said, “Look, either you get on board with the program or you quit.  But I’ll tell you this, if you keep doing what you’ve been doing, you can expect the exact same results you’ve been getting – nothing.”

I got the message – and changed my approach.

Once I did, I found that implementing his suggestions was a matter of doing what D. had suggested months before: Put food in mouth.  Chew.  Swallow.  Problem solved.

And I lost another 85 pounds over the next year.

What this experience taught me was invaluable as I worked to change other aspects of my  life, and realized that in order to change I was going to have to employ the knowledge of those who had experience in the areas I wanted to improve.

January 2010 - photo by MAG

Over the past five years I’ve worked with medical professionals, a life coach, and countless individuals who have skills that I’d like to develop.  I’ve listened to them, employed their advice, and adjusted it when the fit wasn’t quite right.

I’ve started asking questions, talking about things openly and honestly, and stopped thinking that “other people” somehow have it all figured out.

They don’t.

It was when I started listening to that inner voice that lets me know when something is working (and when it isn’t) that I realized my life is simply that – my life.

And while I can look at the choices others are making and the results they’re getting, there’s no way for me to know all of the factors that have gone into their decisions.  The outcome of their choices is uniquely their own, and measuring myself against “other people” doesn’t do me – or them – any favors.

Five years after my first trip to New York City, I am a decidedly happier and healthier version of myself.  I feel more confident, more secure in my decisions, and more self-assured about the direction my life is taking.  I don’t know where the next five years will lead, but if the last five are any indication, I’m going to wind up someplace absolutely amazing.

And I’m looking forward to the adventure!

August 2011 - photo by MAG

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

For the past few months, I’ve been scared to write on my own blog.

There, I said it.

I’ve been paralyzed by the fact that I have so much to say, and yet I wasn’t sure of how to say it, so I froze.

Instead, I shifted the focus away from myself and my thoughts, and turned them toward people I know who are actively engaged in pursuing their dreams, and I’m not sorry I did. Dan, Laura, Colin, and Kate inspired me, gave me hope and did a mighty fine job of covering for me while I frantically searched for my writer’s courage.

Oh, I didn’t stop writing. For me, that would be akin to not breathing.

I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. And wrote. But I couldn’t craft a blog entry that I felt I could publish, so I let it go and took a break from blogging.

I taught, I worked a second sales job (in retail) over the holidays, and I read books. Lots and lots and lots of books. But still I didn’t feel like I had anything worthwhile to say.

Last Sunday afternoon, frustrated by my inability to blog, and hungry for information related to a decision I am in the process of making, I traveled to my local library and found Mika Brzezinski’s book Knowing your Value: Women, Money, and Getting What You’re Worth during my ritual “wandering of the stacks.” I checked it, and several other books, out and drove home to make dinner.

That night I began reading and kept reading until I my eyelids were too heavy to stay up. The next morning I was up at five, with a steaming cup of coffee, and by nine I was turning the last page as I sipped the ice cold dregs.

As soon as I finished, I emailed J. to tell her what an amazing book it was, and, of course, had to summarize a few parts for her. I told her she had to read it!

When she emailed back a little while later, she laughingly said she’d add it to her list of books and thanked me for the Cliff Notes.

In my excitement, I misunderstood her gratitude as a request and proceeded to type out a synopsis of each chapter. Later we laughed about my overly enthusiastic response to her appreciation, but I was glad that I’d typed up my thoughts while they were still fresh. Rereading them, I realized why I had been having so much trouble finding my blogging voice.

I couldn’t find value in what I had to say.

I was embarrassed about all of the ideas I had. I thought everything I had to say was silly or trivial – and I was ashamed of what I thought.

Knowing Your Value was the key that unlocked – and opened – the door, and showed me that I wasn’t alone.

Brzezinski’s book chronicles her professional missteps as she got back into the television news business a year after she lost her anchor position on CBS Evening News. In it, she explores the ways in which professional women are often overlooked and under compensated, and more importantly, how they themselves contribute to the system that devalues their performance and contributions. Not only did she examine her own missteps, she also asked powerful professional women about theirs – and then reported their candid responses.

Women like Senior Presidential Advisor,Valerie Jarrett, former CEO of Yahoo.com Carol Bartz, former Chairperson of the FDIC Sheila Bair and Publisher Tina Brown all expressed the same kinds of experiences – feeling torn between being professional (read: being a “good girl”) and vocally valuing their contributions (read: being a “self-promoter”).

The example that absolutely shocked, and then reassured, me was from Elizabeth Warren. Yes, the Elizabeth Warren. The Harvard Law Professor. The longtime consumer advocate who locked horns with Treasury Secretary, Tim Geithner. The Elizabeth Warren who has been on Time magazine’s list of the World’s Most Influential People for two years running, and who is now running for the Massachusetts Senate. That Elizabeth Warren.

Warren says that she’s always been the “good girl,” the one who said, “Someone needs to do this. Someone needs to mop the floor. Okay, hand me the mop.” What she hadn’t realized was how deep the need to “belong” ran, until the Wall Street Journal called her “self-promoting.” She said that she was transported back to her childhood in Oklahoma, suddenly feeling like the odd girl out, and remembers thinking, “Oh my god, I do so much less press than I’m asked to do, and when I do it, I always try to do it in the service of trying to teach something, trying to advance an idea’…it really stung. You know when someone says, ‘Oh, she’s just plain stupid,’ it doesn’t cut to the quick. It doesn’t undermine me in the same way. It doesn’t even throw me off. But the notion that I’m self-promoting somehow makes me gasp…I think more than once I’ve wondered, ‘Would you say that if I were a man?’” (Brzezinski 106).

I was stunned. If even Elizabeth Warren worries about being seen as a self-promoting know-it-all, then what hope do I have of figuring out how to say what I think?

As women, we are socialized in a way that leads us to doubt ourselves, and allows the opinions of others to silence our own. And because we’re scared of being labeled judgmental, uptight or holier-than-thou, we censor what we really think and feel in order to make others feel more comfortable or less insecure. It’s a horrible cycle that leads many women to give up trying to get their ideas heard, and I shudder to think how many possibilities have been lost as a result.

The problem, Ariana Huffington says, is that, “Too often in our culture, strong women get stereotyped as ball-busters, which is as insulting as it is ludicrous. In my experience, the strongest, most fearless women I know are also the most creative and productive-and the ones who most want to support other women. And honestly, wouldn’t any healthy man really prefer to be involved with a woman-either personally or professionally-who is driven by her true thoughts, feelings, beliefs and desires instead of her fears?” (93).

While reading these words, it hit me. All of the women in the book expressed doubt and fear about speaking up and asserting their worth, but they all put on a good game face, developed thicker skin, made mistakes, and kept speaking up.

They didn’t give in to the voice that threatened to silence them.

Even when the voice was their own.

I have a lot to blog about these days. Big changes are on the way, and I’m scared and excited by the prospect of possibly changing careers at this stage in my life (for those of you who have followed my blog, I will tell you for certain that I am not on my way to becoming a rock star – and that I’m sorry if you’re disappointed.).

I don’t know what’s going to happen or how it’s going to happen, all I know is that I have a lot to say about what’s going to happen, and I’m not going to allow my fears to silence me.

Well, not for long, anyway.