Friday, November 15, 2013

when I grow up

When I was little I wanted to be a pediatrician. I'm pretty sure that was because I liked sounding impressive as a five year old using the word "pediatrician." I've always loved to impress people. I did a pretty good job of it in high school. I was awarded "Employee of the Month" at my job when I was sixteen. I've always had a great work ethic. The doctors I worked with in high school were impressed with me also. One doctor in particular scrutinized my desire to be a physical therapist. He said that the world of medicine needed more female doctors and that it would be a waste for me to become a physical therapist because I would make a great doctor.

What would he think of me now?

I haven't become anything.

I'm a wife. I'm a mother. I have no additional ambitions and I feel stagnant. Not only stagnant, but also trapped. My husband's job destroys any possibility of having the career of my dreams because who will raise our children?

I started pursuing physical therapy as a career as a junior in high school. I interviewed a PT at a hospital in my home town. She was wearing a wind suit and tennis shoes and had her hair in a ponytail. She spoke so passionately about her job. That was where the fire started.

I went to college and pursued my dream with every thing I had. I worked forty hours a week and went to school full time. I LOVED my job as a PT technician. I was thrilled to make money doing something that I loved so much. I pitied people who didn't love their job as much as me. After about five years my back was hurting so much that I could barely walk when I got off work. I was in a lot of pain. I did not tell my employers. I saw doctors and physical therapists. I continued to be in pain and requested to work in the front office. I wanted to see the business side of it and I needed to sit. Then I got married. Then I got pregnant. I quit working two months before my daughter was born. I cherish those early days and years with her. When she was seven days old I begged her to not grow up. I was so enamored with her. She was so beautiful and wonderful and work NEVER crossed my mind. I had no desire to be at work.

Now that I'm almost six years into my "retirement" I feel the desire to work. I often think to myself, "What do I want to be when I grow up?" Then I remember that I'm 31 years old and I am "grown up." I don't have to work in physical therapy, but I want to work somewhere. I want to be needed and appreciated by people other than my husband and children. I want to feel fulfilled. I feel guilty for feeling this way.

I've enjoyed my retirement but I'm ready for it to end.