Career Hijacking (A Story)

When I was 10, I wanted to be a kick ass police woman. I was going to be a New York Cop working out of Manhattan’s 14th Precinct. My best friends, drinking buddies and workmates were going to be Mary Beth Lacey and Christine Cagney.

I didn’t really know how I was going to tell my Mum and Dad I would be leaving to go and live in the US of A (I live in Scotland), I plucked up the courage and I was completely stunned when they said, ‘Dawn, Cagney and Lacey is just a TV program’.

Feck!

Before that, at age 8/9, I wanted to be a professional Highland Dancer. But the kilt made my thighs itchy. So that didn’t last.

Also around 10 , I thought I wanted to be maid. I asked my folks to treat me as theirs for a weekend. They loved it, I thought it sucked as they took the urine.

At 11, a vet, until the cat (RIP Sooty) died.

At age 12 I planned to cycle from Ireland to Delhi, like the writer Dervla Murphy in her book Full Tilt. Until I failed geography successfully in first year.

At 14 a ballet dancer until I ripped my knee into tiny pieces.

At 15+ an actress.

This career hijacking went on into my late twenties: arts, drama, youth work, support work, training, ‘healing’ therapies, a stint at reiki and reflexology and even a sorry attempt at horticulture (knowing the latin names for plants is ‘kinda cool.) Sound familiar?

I don’t know about you when towering adults above asked me, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up‘, even at age 6 I would always answer with a job title.

That young, I knew, just like you, I was going to have to do something and stick a label to myself, so that others could identify and categorise me with what I got paid for.

Urgh! Urgh!

Not once to I ever remember saying:

I want to be really really happy.

I want to my life to be remarkable.

I want to be free to create.

I want to be healthy.

I want to live long enough.

I want to do stuff that matters.

I want to be masterful at something.

I want to be able to change my mind.

I don’t want to be the one who didn’t have enough time.

I don’t want to be the one who waited and waited.

I don’t want to be identified with a job title.

You?

How young we both were conditioned for the world of work huh?

As children, we are given toys that replicate an adult world: helmets, outfits of uniformed professions, the games and presents – all preparing us for the world of work.

Can I say this? You are not your job. Your career. Your business. Your wage. Your title. Your salary.

You are so much more.