During the decades when I felt sadness about being single, I always had a career to lean on. My work in the film industry gave me purpose, structure, travel, camaraderie, an excuse to stay late in the office and a position of respect. When I lost my job and couldn’t find another, it was the most existential crisis of my life. Without a spouse or work, who was I?
This happened when I was fifty. Looking back, if I could pick a moment to be plunged into self doubt, it was better at that ripe age when I’d accumulated a measure of wisdom and coping skills.
One of the ways out of the gloom was a technique I’d honed being single amidst mostly married friends, and trying not to feel like a misfit. And that was reminding myself (again and again) of an inner truth even if it wasn’t being reflected from the outside world:
You have inherent value.
You have inherent value.
It became a mantra, which I silently murmured before job interviews, after job rejections, on consoling walks with my dog, and hesitant walks into social events where I knew people would ask, “and what do you do?”
And so I survived, and went on to create a wonderful, new vocation as a Career Coach, where I get to guide others in their moments of professional crisis.
I want to hear about your experience with work. What role does it play in your single life?
Illustration by Marc Johns
Even in Southern California, we’re not quite there yet. But I’m starting to yearn for a good tomato.
Gelato Pomodoro by Sarah Illenberger
I’ve never been a “big” bag person. Don’t misunderstand. I adore beautiful purses. But I don’t like them to be too large, particularly when I’m covering some distance walking (which is often, even in L.A). Given that my purses are small, I’m pared down to the essentials. Wallet, keys, phone, glasses. And beyond that, the one item I always have with me is a piece of writing paper and a pen. What are you never without?
Sign by Serge Lowrider