Passing the Test

In June of 2015 I was tired. I was exhausted actually. I had been working at a company I was not happy in within the confines of a career that didn't fulfill me. My relationship was failing and being given CPR only to fail again. I was miserable and I was doing it all because I wanted to pass the test. The test of life. Doesn't a happy and fulfilled life look a certain way? Doesn't it include a relationship you would do anything to keep and a career that may not fulfill you, but deposits a pre-determined amount of money into your bank account every other week? Doesn't it include children and white picket fences? 

What if it doesn't? What if my truth exists outside that perfect 1950s American Dream? In my quest for fulfillment I even learned how to put victory rolls in my hair and I bought midi dresses with flare skirts and little skinny belts that wrapped around my waist making me feel as if I were suffocating. Perhaps it was a sign that to pass this test, a costume would not be enough. It only covered the crumbling pieces. 

So I made changes. My first change was forced upon me: I got laid off from my crappy job. It forced me to reassess. I could easily have stayed in the industry, unhappily jumping from stressful lily pad to even more stressful lily pad. What I had learned about insurance was simple: people who thrive in small business insurance are usually piranhas and they are not very nice and people that are greatly successful in large insurance either have a ton of education and connections, or they are willing to give up absolutely everything else for their careers. Their careers consume them. I had been the latter. I didn't want to be that anymore, or at least, not if it meant being consumed by insurance, that dull and frustrating mistress that is only necessary because our culture revolves around entitlement and how much is mine, how much is yours. There are rare cases where insurance is both used properly and for the benefit of people, but as someone who worked in it for over a decade, I can tell you that petty claims and people fraudulently trying to get more than they were due was much more common and that disgusted me. My bosses disgusted me more. Nearly all men with big heads and booming voices who piled work upon their underlings and took long blissful vacations where they "ran" the office from cell phones, yelling if things didn't go their way but unwilling to actually get in the trenches and help things get done, I was disillusioned early on. Delegating tasks is an important quality in a manager, but it is certainly not the only quality necessary for a manager. In fact, it is actually one of the least important in a leader, and my last boss, that's really the only talent he had. That, and yelling when it didn't go exactly the way he saw it going. I walked out of that office in June 2015 feeling a weight lifting completely off my shoulders. I was free. I look back and I feel sorry for my old boss. He once told me that I was the type of person that should work in non-profit and that he was the type of person that should give a check. He was so incredibly right about that!

My next step to a new life was working on my relationship. I threw myself into that. I cooked, cleaned, and bought little nuggets for my boyfriend, all while dropping hints that I would like to get married. He had been engaged previously. One day he left work only to come home to an empty apartment. She had moved all her things out and was nowhere to be found. He couldn't imagine putting himself out there like that again, even for someone who loved him as much as I did. He simply didn't have it in him. Even now, I miss him. Sitting here in China, I think about him every single day. I think about how lovely he is when he wants to be. I think about how horrible he is at communicating and about how little he actually knows about himself and how to be a good partner. And then I think about the big three: would I really be happy married to a man with so little communication skills? Would I be able to compromise enough of myself and what I believe is important to raise children with a man who has so little in common with me? Would I love him forever and will he love me forever? 

To that last one, I know the answer is yes, but to the first two, it's a no, and that means that the third one means nothing. If I wouldn't be happy and I wouldn't want to raise kids with him, the heartache I feel without him is necessary. It may or may not be temporary. I may never get over him, but that's okay, because despite my ability to love, it isn't the only important factor. If I am someday blessed with a good partner whom I wish to procreate with, that person will not be a smoking, meat-eating, gun-owning individual who disparages traditional relationships simply because he doesn't know how to be in one. I will not pass that on to my children. I simply don't want to pull them apart in that way.

So I'm here now. I made the decisions I made because I was tired. I was tired of trying to pass a test only I knew I was taking and hadn't studied because there is no real test. It's all a test and it's all not a test. It simply depends on one's perspective. To pass, you must find a way to feel fulfilled. For me that meant escaping the rat race and escaping all-consuming, doomed love. It meant taking a chance on doing something few people in their lives dare to. It meant endeavoring to be different and fill my life with passion instead of passionately looking for something to fill my life. So I packed my bags and here I am. In China. Single. Unemployed/Volunteering but doing a job many others have done before me, hoping to have my own individual experience.