I’m sure nearly everyone knows someone who has a Plan; a nicely laid out itinerary for the rest of their lives that they will follow with the utmost care to the Perfect Life where they will live happily ever after.
I used to have a Plan too. I got mine from reading too many Cosmopolitan magazines, but this was my Plan:
- Go to university and get a degree in something awesome that would give me the opportunity and means to be rich.
- Get a high-paying job directly out of school and start saving for the Perfect House.
- Meet the Perfect Man whose Plan complements my Plan.
- Have my picture taken for Cosmopolitan magazine as one of the most influential people under 30 while looking very poised, perfect and totally hot.
This is what actually happened:
- Went to university and got a English Literature degree.
- Worked at a series of uninspiring jobs for a series of uninspiring people for peanuts.
- Seriously dated men (and married one) who were totally wrong for me.
- Stopped reading Cosmopolitan magazine ages ago and have certainly never had my picture in it.
I am coming to realize (with the help of a few people who regularly beat this into my head) that my worth as a person shouldn’t be tied up with accomplishments. That’s not to say I shouldn’t be proud of the things I do well or give myself a pat on the back when I’ve earned it, but that the sum of who I am is not how much I make or what I do to make it.
I’m 32 and I’m only now coming to see this – and I still have a long way to go before I believe it enough to live it.
I have often felt that not fulfilling the Plan made me inherently unlovable – something that was reinforced by the daily behaviour of one of my ex’s. The message to me seemed to be: “Get a good paying job, work at it constantly, make lots of money and I will adore/respect/love you.”
I tried that. I worried constantly about how to get the Right Job and spent hours applying for positions I wasn’t all that interested in. I wanted to be the person whose Plan was the right kind of plan. I desperately wanted the approval of my ex, my friends, my parents and the perfect strangers I was sure to meet at cocktail parties.
In my daydreams, a well-dressed woman at a cocktail party would say “What do you do?” and I would say (while smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from my very hot designer Little Black Dress) “Oh, I am the editor of all those books on the New York Times best-seller list. Tom Clancy and I are actually having lunch tomorrow.” And she’d laugh; a rich and approving laugh, and I’d be IN.
I would be one of those women in Cosmo who was making $80k a year at the age of 25 and I would do it with style and grace. I would tell the interviewer “This really just started as a hobby and the next thing you know I’m getting all these crazy offers! I’m still surprised by my own success!.”
I’ve got quite the imagination, but I haven’t entirely neglected the Plan I originally made. My English Literature degree has not been the ticket to the big time. To be truthful though; I knew that when I signed on, but I figured since I was good at reading I might as well get credit for it . I have not had many jobs that I generally liked going to and I left the last one about two weeks ago because it was making me insane in a bad way.
I still don’t read Cosmopolitan, because I find it hard to believe that there are 50 new ways to please your man in bed every single month as their magazine seems to claim on every cover I can remember.
I have, however, met the Perfect Man. It took a few duds (and boy could I tell you stories!), but I finally met him and his Plan is to be happy. I like his Plan a lot and have begun to think I ought to adopt it.
So, I don’t have the perfect career where I make loads of money and my sweetheart and I live in a rented apartment below one of the most spoiled three year-olds I’ve ever met and I have yet to attend a cocktail party in a designer dress or otherwise…but who cares?
I have a few very good friends who don’t care what I do for a living or how much I make so long as I am happy, I have a fiancee who is absolutely perfect for me and the further I get from the Plan and all it’s attendant stupidities, the happier I am.
It’s cliched, but it really is the grit that seeps into the oyster shell that makes the pearl.