As a teenager, a peer told me that I would never be a cheerleader. Because of my un-popularity, the team (and ADULT coach, wtf) saw to it that I never made the junior high squad despite my background in gymnastics and dance and that I was MORE THAN CAPABLE to be one. It took me a few stupid years in that school, but once we tried out for the high school teams (which were three merged junior highs) I was one of ONLY TWO that made it on from my school. I was quite proud of that middle finger I invisibly showed off when everyone who made the previous three years perfectly terrible then wanted to be my friend. Because rejection, especially as a kid, can manifest in many different ways (and I was already receiving quite a bit of that in other places, too). I proceeded to excel in cheer even in my new high school after I moved/transferred (which came with it a whole NEW SCHOOL of mean girls), and went on to cheer in junior college which was one of the most fun memories of my life.

I was good enough. I knew it. And I showed up. Again and again.

But that is never the end of the story, is it?

As a young adult, starting out on my hopeful career of working in TV sports production, an older male colleague at one of my PA gigs warned me that I would never find a job. Whether this was his own personal narrative and negative disposition of opportunities within the industry or your everyday generalized misogyny (because look, all I saw were men around me), I believed him.

So I gave up my dream.

Or did I?

Why is my fire alarm going off? (No, seriously, why.)

In the background of these stories, however, is that when I transferred high schools during my sophomore year, the transition was difficult. Though, yes, I made the cheerleading team, I was also the only senior cheerleader not to make homecoming court. I was also a runner. A runner who LOVED cross country and track (100 and 300 hurdles!) and at my new school I was overwhelmed with finding out that the athlete in my event made state her freshman year. Instead of training with her as a way to get better, I saw it as “I’ll never be that good” and never even tried out for the team. This feeling was a running highlight for me for most of my remaining teenage years and far too long into adulthood.

Funny thing, I fell in love with running again another two decades later.

I returned to college 20 years after leaving high school for graduate school with a focus specifically IN THE FIELD OF SPORTS. I guess I never let my dream of working in sports die. It just looks a little different than it did from my dreams two decades ago. To be honest though, I was fairly directionless for most of those 20 years – frequently bored, unchallenged, dropped in and out of several different colleges (finally finishing my undergrad at age 36).

As a kid, I wanted deeply to become a writer. I wrote short stories all throughout elementary school, transitioning to poetry and journalism in high school (I even started a horror book based on a crazy dream I had in my teens). As an early adopter of blogging in the early 2000s, I feel as though that part of my identity has lived on. I tried to “monetize” those dreams into a web copywriting career upon losing job-after-job in the tanking recession of working in the real estate boom-and-bust. I had a few bylines in magazines, and it worked well for a while… but that’s the funny thing about turning a passion into a full-time job. Because I still love research and writing – and now have the specialized knowledge in a particular field, I consider if things might be different if I try that again.

But then there is the other part of my childhood where I learned how to program on computers (my first, a Commodore 64). I was in my elementary school’s computer club learning command prompts (on early Apple) and going to science fairs trying to figure out how to build the “behind the scenes” stuff of computer games. I remember also learning dBASE in high school and learning HTML early to build websites (in computer lounges at school that remained locked and very-nearly inaccessible). Despite not having a lot of luxuries growing up, I always had access to computers. Going to dad’s meant playing around on the Commodore; mom eventually bought us a Tandy. I received a desktop computer for high school graduation in 1995. I have never not owned a computer of my own since.

My life has often been distracted by many paths of interest, which might be why it seems that I have never really been a “career person.” There really is no hardline beginning and end to this story, aside from maybe being OK with not having a 5-year or a 10-year or a lifetime career goal wrapped in a single identity. Maybe it’s OK to have multiple careers in one lifetime. Because: do we really ever know what we want or who we are? And how those things might change from experience and age? How can you weave passions and interests from childhood and beyond into where you are today? Also, when was the last time you gave yourself permission to change and explore something new – or revisit a former part of your identity that you never fully realized?

Extra Reading:
Manage your energy, manage your life (or something) {via Pocket} Because WOO BOY, I am exhausted by career paths. I feel like energy management is the IV I regularly need to tap.