I made a mistake of telling my Mom that my friend finally quit her stressful job at a local office and found a BPO place to work in.
It was mistake because I know, she secretly wished that for me too.
I know she wishes I work in a prestigious bank. Then she’ll tell all of her friends and strangers too even if they didn’t ask.
I know she’ll be so proud of me if that was the case.
Instead, when her friends or people ask me what I do she doesn’t know how to tell them her daughter is unemployed and spends her time designing products no one buys.
She keeps silent, like she wishes the ground will swallow her up. She looks at me with those eyes that seems to say, “You’re on your own now. Explain to us what you do because I don’t understand either.”
Even my boyfriend’s parents are quick to come up with an answer for me so I don’t have to. Before I even open my mouth, they’re quick to say, “She used to work in an office,” when their friends ask.
Which translates to, “She’s not working now, but she used to. And don’t ask what she’s doing now because we don’t know either but it doesn’t matter because she used to be employed. And maybe you can overlook that and okay, let’s talk about something else.”
And I don’t blame them really.
Because I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.
All I know is I like what I do. Even if I don’t earn much.
When I was a little girl, my Mom used to love bringing me to the bank. As we waited in the large crisp chairs, she’d tell me, “Someday you’ll work here.” As if handing me a precious gift, she’d point to the bank tellers and whisper how nice they looked and that one day I’ll be like them too.
My little mind would agree and think, yes, I’d like that. Even though I felt uncomfortable in a place such as a nice bank —where everyone looked neat and tidy, while my hair was unruly, my posture unheard of and my shoes, dirty.
I didn’t realize until I was 21 that this precious gift of a dream she handed to me, was hers and not mine.
I used to spend my free time in highschool inside the library reading books on Psychology. It amazed me that it can explain people’s behavior.
That was the first time I learned that there is a reason for why people act the way they do. I’d flipped the pages and think about our former Ms. Highschool who’s off to a well-known school in Manila studying Psychology.
Or about my churchmate who wanted to take this course but her Dad said that it didn’t make a lot of money. And my Mom told me that she agreed.
I closed the book and thought, this isn’t for me. I’d stick to accounting like everyone else in my family. I’d work in a bank and make my Mom proud.
That was 16 year old me. I wonder what she’d do if she met me now.
I think she’ll probably rethink her career decisions and go for that one thing she really wanted.
In college, I spent my free time googling business ideas, because I needed the money to buy new clothes after realizing a classmate was keeping track of my clothes and fashion sense. I didn’t know there was a thing such as a thrift shop, back then.
That was when I fell in love with the enormous idea of selling things or designing, etc. I also fell in to this make-money-through-blogging phase. But that didn’t work out pretty well. The business idea stuck with me like a gum though.
The possibility of making your own money by doing your own thing?? Outrageous!
I like it!
I never fell in love with accounting but I didn’t hate it either. I felt bored and indifferent toward it. I didn’t relate to my classmates and teachers in terms of brain wavelenght and personality.
They were all……… competitive and so brainy. It seemed as if they were all trying to prove who the smartest one was or who could do solve this or blah blah blah.
Nobody dared to ask me for help during homework or before quizzes.
Maybe it was so obvious I didn’t give a damn.
I’d take a quiz or an exam and forget about what it was all about within 10 seconds after I passed my paper. Meanwhile my classmates with panicked voices would discuss the questions and analyze and worry, while I stand by listening and waiting for them to move so we can have lunch or snacks. Sometimes I want to snort out loud and shout, “Get over it!”
While they worry about their scores, my mind wandered far away. I didn’t care. At all.
(Okay, I cared a little bit. I just wanted to pass. That’s all.)
It didn’t make me feel alive or purposeful as something you love doing should.
I know I have second chances in education. I mean I can always go back to school or learn online, but there are moments when I wish I could go back.
I’d do it all over again. I wouldn’t be so afraid to make my own decisions.
I was reading a book today, Meet Me At Midnight, and the main character Asher says this to his Dad about his career choice:
“I’d rather try for that and fail than go for a sure thing that I’m never going to care about.”
So this is me. Trying for this thing, setting up a small business taking it one step at a time. I’m doing this, instead of the sure thing that is working in an office and not giving a shit each day.
I know, I know. It’s not practical. How’s it gonna be 10 years from now, when I don’t have savings, insurance, investments and all that?
Will I live on the streets? Or beg for scraps of food? What will become of me?
These thoughts haunt me in the middle of the night, but surprisingly I’m up for the challenge. Because who’s to say I’m still going to be here 10 years from now.
What I’m sure of, is I’m given today. So I’ll make the most of it. By doing what matters most to me.
Life With Rachel 