Maybe the "success" and "failure" rating of a career is in the eye of the beholder. It seems other people don't agree about the "failure" idea, regardless of the growing pains.
What to do with a late-in-life "diagnosis" of a condition to which one has already successfully adapted?
First of all I love and miss you so much! Also, it's eerie how much of your story resonates with me. Like, I kept saying "same" while reading this post. Last year my boss opened a new restaurant in another town and I had to run the restaurant I work at by myself. I panicked. I thought no way am I qualified to do this! Whose idea was this?! But my boss saw my panic before I even voiced it and told me I was absolutely capable and qualified or they wouldn't have asked me to be a manager in the first place. I've never felt "smart enough" or "good enough" in my jobs even though looking back I absolutely was. It's been nice to have those people in my life to remind me how capable I am.
I'm sure I have some form of this, but it hasn't really luckily hindered me, or at least not that I've been aware of. But I find it hard to make my bed without being distracted by something else I'd rather do across the room. I eventually make my way back to all my projects but any one particular day looks like a patchwork quilt. I love the photos of your grandmother's quilt. I'm a quilter as well, and that is something I can settle into and not be distracted! Looking forward to reading the next post in this series.
I work in the same way, Sue. My previous husband hated it, but at the end of the day I'd have accomplished a lot. A lot of people think there's some best way to do everything, but I like to think there's often multiple good ways. Patchwork is a great metaphor for how we do things.
The tuck / untuck situation made me laugh! And then I wasn't ready for all of the different emotions that your writing sparked... I feel like you just took me on a journey through joy and confusion and hope and grief, etc., all wrapped up in one. It's such a great reflection of what this whole experience is like. Thank you for that!
You ask if it's possible to avoid the angst, and I think the answer is yes--at least, the kind of angst you're writing about here. I spent most of my career feeling all the kinds of things you outline here. But I had no framework to help me understand my experience, and no idea that anyone else might be struggling in the same way. My daughter and step-daughter, though, have grown up in a different world. They have an understanding of themselves that is helping them make much better choices for all aspects of their lives, thanks to what we now understand about neurodiversity. Yes, they still have angst--because they are smart young women and the world is full of hard challenges, especially if you're neurodiverse--but it feels qualitatively quite different from the kind I had that was based in ignorance. I'm so glad it is different for them in that respect.
Maybe the "success" and "failure" rating of a career is in the eye of the beholder. It seems other people don't agree about the "failure" idea, regardless of the growing pains.
What to do with a late-in-life "diagnosis" of a condition to which one has already successfully adapted?
Keep on trucking šš¼
First of all I love and miss you so much! Also, it's eerie how much of your story resonates with me. Like, I kept saying "same" while reading this post. Last year my boss opened a new restaurant in another town and I had to run the restaurant I work at by myself. I panicked. I thought no way am I qualified to do this! Whose idea was this?! But my boss saw my panic before I even voiced it and told me I was absolutely capable and qualified or they wouldn't have asked me to be a manager in the first place. I've never felt "smart enough" or "good enough" in my jobs even though looking back I absolutely was. It's been nice to have those people in my life to remind me how capable I am.
I'm sure I have some form of this, but it hasn't really luckily hindered me, or at least not that I've been aware of. But I find it hard to make my bed without being distracted by something else I'd rather do across the room. I eventually make my way back to all my projects but any one particular day looks like a patchwork quilt. I love the photos of your grandmother's quilt. I'm a quilter as well, and that is something I can settle into and not be distracted! Looking forward to reading the next post in this series.
I work in the same way, Sue. My previous husband hated it, but at the end of the day I'd have accomplished a lot. A lot of people think there's some best way to do everything, but I like to think there's often multiple good ways. Patchwork is a great metaphor for how we do things.
I agree, there are a multitude of good ways to accomplish our goals! ššš
The tuck / untuck situation made me laugh! And then I wasn't ready for all of the different emotions that your writing sparked... I feel like you just took me on a journey through joy and confusion and hope and grief, etc., all wrapped up in one. It's such a great reflection of what this whole experience is like. Thank you for that!
"Life is full of things we canāt change, but sometimes we can view it differently. Iāve been healing my relationship with my past self"
Love this and resonate with it so much. This is what I think Richard Rohr would call "second half of life thinking."
Those four questions fully apply to me and essentially define me. Does that mean Iām a female thought leader with ADHD?š¤·āāļøš¤·āāļø
You could certainly play one on TV!
You ask if it's possible to avoid the angst, and I think the answer is yes--at least, the kind of angst you're writing about here. I spent most of my career feeling all the kinds of things you outline here. But I had no framework to help me understand my experience, and no idea that anyone else might be struggling in the same way. My daughter and step-daughter, though, have grown up in a different world. They have an understanding of themselves that is helping them make much better choices for all aspects of their lives, thanks to what we now understand about neurodiversity. Yes, they still have angst--because they are smart young women and the world is full of hard challenges, especially if you're neurodiverse--but it feels qualitatively quite different from the kind I had that was based in ignorance. I'm so glad it is different for them in that respect.
'I hacked together a self-taught, made-up life.'
Oh Jen. I cried and cried. Thank you so much for speaking my language. xxx