And another thing…

I forgot I had this blog.

80% of the time being an adult is pretty tricky. There was a time, pre-Canada, that things had little effect on me. I never over thought things, I just did them. Jobs were easier. There wasn’t as many rules and lists and probation. I started a job and did it. I was quickly thought of as reliable, and a good worker.

Then I experienced micromanagement for the first time. After quitting that job, I started a new one, only to get fired after two weeks because I, according to them, ‘couldn’t cut it.’ I subsequently landed a job as a box office manager at a comedy club. I worked unsociable hours and spent most of my time alone. I hated it.

Then I came home.

Except home hadn’t changed, I had. Sure, friends had settled down. That is expected of our age group. I needed to recharge my batteries anyway, so at first, it didn’t bother me. Then it became a challenge. People were not as available as they once were. I had gone from living a busy ex-pat life to one that came to a screeching halt. And little has changed.

It’s been over a year since I’ve returned. I fight a constant battle to keep myself occupied with an array of hobbies and interests. Since returning I’m on my second job , which on the surface is fun, however, a task as trivial as slicing lemons becomes ‘this isn’t how we slice lemons.’ I despair. It doesn’t matter. None of it does.

The people I work with are younger than me. Most of them are students. For most, this is probably their first job. They have certain degrees of responsibility. I call it the ‘McDonald’s Effect’ (based on the corporation’s penchant for awarding stars to give the illusion of responsibility, instead of a pay rise.) Give minimum wage workers a set of keys or a title, and they have power. Not a pay rise. Power.

At least they think they do.

When I had that false sense of power, I felt like I was making a difference and my ideas were important. When I entered more corporate office work, none of that mattered. I was at the bottom of the pile, my ideas didn’t matter. I went from having control to having none at all. It was a tough wake-up call.

Now, ten years on, I see it for what it is. None of it matters.

Just like the lemons.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

A Shift In Thought

Back when I started this blog I wrote about how I should start living my life on purpose. Should being the operative word there. Why should I try and live my life that way, hammering out lists of things I should be doing to feel like my life has purpose?

I often think back to a certain time in my life where I was flourishing and progressing. I was doing a lot of things at the time: writing my dissertation, revising for exams, working two jobs, running my successful food blog and keep myself open to everything. When university ended I was suddenly left with a lot more free time. I started to get slightly depressed because I started to put pressure on myself and what I should be doing right at that moment in time, a pattern that followed me when I moved abroad.

Since returning to the UK and dealing with the anxiety issues I had, that train of thought came rushing by again, and I started to wind myself up with searching for a job. However, I felt indifferent and unmotivated. I didn’t want to do anything. I needed to rest my mind and slowly decide what to do next. And you know what? It worked.

Last year I started to think about Belfast and about doing a master’s degree. It was that kind of calling I had when I wanted to move to Canada, to get a degree in Event Management and to start a food blog. The key factor in all those things is I didn’t write it down on a bucket list or plan in advance that I would do them at x age. They all happened when they happened and I never planned the way they would go. I felt that Belfast was my next calling, so I applied to do a master’s at Queen’s University. I was accepted 24 hours later.

After that I dived back in to finding a job for the summer. Nothing seemed to be working out for me, and I felt no desire to work at any of the places I was interviewed at. That was a feeling that I hadn’t had before. Then, sadly, I lost my grandmother and was granted the rest of an inheritance that will allow me to fund my move to Belfast and pay for my master’s. Funny how things work out.

In the early days of my time in Canada I was open, ready and eager. Then I started to think about what I should be doing, where I should be working, who I should be dating and then I stood among the chaos when it all unfolded spectacularly. The fear returned and I lost control. But I wasn’t supposed to have control in the first place. It happened as it happened. I tried to control things and didn’t follow my heart.

With the recent events I have encountered at home, it has struck me that this  was going to happen and that I never needed to worry. I was always going to move to Belfast. I was always going to do a mater’s. Maybe I was so indifferent to work for the first time in my life was because it isn’t supposed to be a focus right now.

All I needed was the space to figure this out:

“Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.”

I think that sums it up.

Following A Fear

The more and more I write this blog the more I find myself furiously typing away at my laptop, mining my life for ideas and attempting to cut the count down to 500 words. I find that there is a lot more that I want to say and that posting it all here might not be the best platform. I want to write something separate from this blog, as it was supposed to be a way for me to explore what I am passionate about. So I’m putting this out there right now: I’m going to write a book. I’ve written and published ebooks before and ran a successful blog, so I am pretty confident I can do this. I want to do this. I am afraid of it. But this is has been calling me for a long time. And guess what? I was afraid to do it. Not anymore 🙂 .

The Other Side (NOT a post about death)

Remember the story arc in the second half of Louie season three? You know, he gets approached by CBS to potentially take over The Late Show with David Letterman. Louie ponders over the position and constantly doubts his capabilities to do the job. He seeks assurance from his ex-wife, or so we think, only for her to confront him on his biggest fear: that he isn’t good enough. She reminds him that he’s put twenty years into his comedy career and that it was all leading to this. He is still hesitant (as Louie often is) to really connect to the idea that he might be the right person for the job. He wanted his ex-wife to bail him out. Tell him he has bigger responsibilities as a father and he shouldn’t do it.

I can relate to this.

Well not the father/parent part. But the part about talking yourself out of something because you don’t feel good enough. Once Louie accepts he can do this, that he has as good a chance as anyone, does he really start to throw himself into the idea of it. He starts to work out, hone his material, he takes lessons in hosting a late night show, he starts to live the idea that this could be THE job. This could be it.

And then he doesn’t get the job.

I think we can all relate to those times where we are doubtful that we will ever succeed. That this isn’t an opportunity for us, that it was meant for someone else. We feel like an imposter the whole time. We think we’ll get found out. I feel like that right now. I’m finally sitting down and deciding what I want to do with my life right now. It is a constant battle. Do I feel like everything I’ve worked at has led me to anywhere? Not really. Being an anxious person and a questioner by nature. I throw myself into the idea of one thing and hoping I get given a chance. I think of every possible outcome, good and bad, that could arise and prepare myself for the worst. Always the worst. I’m drawn to people who tell stories of when they had to overcome something, work their way through something, to come out the other side and feel validated.

I’m still waiting for that other side.

When Louie doesn’t get the job he is relieved. He knew he could do it. He knew he had what it takes and he isn’t broken by it. He was ready to let that whole idea go. He let go and felt free again. He saw that there wasn’t THE definitive job and his life would go on and other good things will come to him in time. This was his other side.

I recently applied for several jobs that I am so sure that I would be great at. I see the potential in them and the potential in me that would finally help me to get on track with a cohesive path in my life. But it isn’t up to me. I do my end of it. I submit the requirements needed. I go to the recruitment weekends. I network, get stuck in with tasks, project confidence and capability in the interview and show an engagement in the company and what we can offer each other.

I fantasise about the person I could be. The life I could have. I start to think that THIS is the THE job.  That this is the only path and no other will come to me. This is the only opportunity. Others are successful and I am still waiting. I gave it everything.

This could be my other side.

 

 

 

Old Passion: Blogging

In the search to find out the things that could help me discover my passion, I turned to something I used to be passionate about: blogging.

I used to run a pretty successful food blog. The thing is that I hated being labelled a ‘food blogger’. The blog felt like so much more than that. It felt like an extension of my creative side. A side I had only just discovered. I worked really hard on that blog. I felt like that was my real job. I did all the design, photography, writing, editing and social media for it. I was out interviewing local businesses and invoicing magazines who requested my photography. I worked on it during the days and went to my bar job at night. By the time I was getting ready to leave for Canada I was working with high profile brands such as John Lewis, Tesco, Marks & Spencer to name a few.

And then I stopped.

I thought that if I put in as much work as I did at home as I did in Canada, the blog would be as popular. But that wasn’t how it worked out. Canada ain’t cheap. Rents are crippling if you want to live anywhere remotely connected. Life there in general is expensive. Even deodorant. So I had to get a 9-5. I had a new life to pay for and new friends to spend time with. Something had to give.

There were times where I wanted to pack it all in and head off with my camera and laptop. I missed that creative connection I had to something. I tried and failed to think of ideas that I could work on. As series of pretty harsh setbacks halted that altogether. But lost in a confusing haze of anxiety and listlessness, I never once asked myself ‘is this who I really am?’ Why did I give up what I enjoyed to do something just to make money and survive. Why didn’t I manage my time better to be able to do both? These are questions I now know the answer to: I can do it. I just have to want it badly enough.

This blog won’t be like the other one. I put a lot of pressure on myself to make it successful. What I did learn is that I enjoyed many aspects of being creative; meeting like-minded people who inspire me, discovering new things and taking pictures. I wish I wrote on their more instead of letting the pictures doing the talking. So this blog is the counterpart to that.

This is just the beginning.

Day 3

Project What Next?

20140604_172308

My hotel room the night before I left for Canada. Everything was awaiting me, or so I thought.

Hands up who knows what they want to do with their lives? Anyone? Because I sure don’t. And I need some help figuring it out.

I remember a few years ago ITV2 had a programme about celebrities following their passions. Girls Aloud was the feature of that series. The band had been interviewed in a magazine about participating in the show and it mentioned Nadine wouldn’t be on it, as she was already following her passion: singing. ‘Wow’ I thought ‘I wish I was so passionate about something that I could stick two fingers up to the ITV bosses!’

My problem is I like a lot of things. Things interest me. I’m good at lots of things, but I don’t think I’m particularly great at anything, and I certainly don’t know what I am passionate about. But I often like to give things a try, or let my imagination do the hard work for me.

Some examples:

I lived in Canada because I thought it would change my life. But it was an experience I would describe as ‘70% fun and 30% crying the shower’. Some days it was 100% crying in the shower. I love to cook and be creative in the kitchen, so why don’t I move to Paris and study at Le Cordon Bleu like Rachel Khoo? Or like that American journalist whose book I read? Sweat it out in the kitchens of Paris. Oui! I love to watch good quality television, so I tried to be a TV reviewer for a friend’s blog. I did one review post and I hated it. MAYBE I hated it because I really love to watch comedy. Maybe I should be a stand-up comedian and be team-mates with John Richardson on 8 out of 10 cats does Countdown. We’d be such a good team! You see what I’m getting at here?

But what did I take away from that ‘life changing’ Canadian experience? Simple – I literally have no idea what to do with my life, and that no amount of Tim Bits and pountine was going to help me figure that out.  But I did come back rather broke and with an anxiety disorder. So at least I’m good at  some things: being anxious and not looking after my finances.

I always admired those people who knew what they wanted to do from a young age. They had a focus and a determination that dictated all the choices they made in life, the people they met and the places they went, ultimately leading them down their chosen path. Sometimes those people strayed from the path and sought out other avenues and stuck to those. Maybe those people stayed on that path for their entire lives. Whatever it was that drove them to their paths, it was something.

They all had passion. Just like Nadine.

 

 

Living a life on purpose…or something close.

In three months I will turn 29 and I’m pretty terrified by it all. I remember turning 21 and everything was in front of me. I had kind of messed up the first part of my life, I thought. So I set about using my twenties as a way to make up for my crap school grades, being a collage drop-out and working in a dead end job as an administrative assistant. So I quit that job, starting working in my local Blockbuster (much to my nan’s chagrin ‘but you had an actual job, a respectable one’) moved out of home and went back to college. I was determined to go to university and if I wasn’t in college, studying at home or at work I was out partying. And boy, did I party hard. I was living with my best friend and was free to do whatever I wanted. I worked hard and partied hard. Life was great.

Then I started university and decided to slow it down and focus on working towards my future – to get my degree and move out of Cardiff and start a career. Then I met someone and stayed with him for four years. I moved in with him. Three months after moving in together I felt sad for some reason and I didn’t know why. When I finally left to move to Canada I felt a huge sense of relief and liberation. Thinking back on that time I realised I was unhappy but felt the pressure to stay because it was easier than leaving. The only thing I regret is that I lost a sense of who I was. Sometimes that’s worse than all the other stuff.

I did start a successful food blog during that time and I graduated uni with the result that I wanted. I got my visa to move to Canada, a life long dream, and I finally said an overdue fair well to my home town. I guess you could say it wasn’t all bad, but I did put on a huge amount of weight and lost all my self confidence and rarely saw my friends. So 50/50.

Did I have it all figured out when I moved to Canada? Hell no! I ended up moving to a city that was so far removed from normality (think everyone being young, golden, athletic with rich parents) that I still had no idea who I was. I made friends with a lively bunch of Australians who were up to try new things and experience new places and party (is there any other kind of Aussie?!) and I thought this was the person I was supposed to be now. Then I thought I was a person who should go hiking every weekend because that’s what people here do.

I also dated some local guys and every single one of them was an asshole. Then I dated a REAL asshole who was such a narcissist that he truly believed he was the best thing ever, and I got out as soon as I realised what was happening. I also had it pretty bad for a friend who sent me an unending wave of mixed signals. Turns out he just wasn’t that into me after all. A huge lesson learned on all accounts.

So what does all this have to do with almost turning 30? Well recently I had a revelation: I wasn’t doing things that made me happy. I just went along with things in the hopes that they would get better, because everything worth having is supposed to always be a shitty before it gets good, right? Wrong. I worked jobs where I was micromanaged and treated like crap and naively thought that the next job would be ‘the one’ and I got fired from that after two weeks. But did that job make me happy? Nope. But I kept working there because it would look good for my career, apparently.

I had to learn from getting fired. I was trying so hard to conform and go along with what I thought was expected of me. During my unemployment I realised that I needed to go back to basics and not to rely on anyone or any job. What did I like doing? What did I like to spend my money on? That was what I had to ask myself. I then took on a full-time job working as a box office assistant at a small comedy club where I spend the majority of my time working alone. I couldn’t be happier.

My days off are for me now. I don’t plan to do anything major. I just think of a few places or activities that I love and then decide on the day what I’ll do. I don’t stress myself out making plans with friends and what we should all do together, I just go do it. On a recent day off I called a local spa on the off-chance they had appointments and went for a massage. On the way home I bought a doughnut and went to the library. And then it clicked, this is what I enjoy doing, I did everything I wanted to do. I had no obligations and it felt great.

I recently read this article about how to live life on purpose. What stuck out for me was the idea of making a list of things to do by the next birthday. I am going to continue to do things that make me happy and to leave situations that I no longer want to be in. I am going to learn and do all the new things I want to do. If friends want to join me, then that’s great. I still don’t have it all figured out, but I’m at least at a place that makes sense for me now.

(list will be published next time)