“I’m the age my dad was when he got laid off. He never recovered from that. His drinking got bad, and it led to the dissolution of his marriage.”
I’m not a therapist. All I really want to do is help people make confident decisions about work. But I’ve gotten used to revelations like this.
They usually come deep in the conversation around what success looks like.
Sounds simple. But for high achievers, it gets complicated real fast.
We don’t go far before we encounter a whole lot of implicit rules and judgments. What are we allowed to want? What’s “real success” and what’s not?
If a big part of life so far has been winning the approval of others, collecting gold stars, and attaining access to selective opportunities, how risky might it be to set that objective aside in favor of something more personally fulfilling?
Naming what you want can feel murky, surprising, dangerous. And then evaluating what you might be willing to trade in order to get it? Hoo, boy do those conversations uncover even more invisible rules and constraints.
Suddenly parental voices and beloved mentors’ well-meant advice show up rattling chains and creaking the floorboards like the Ghost of Christmas Past.
It turns out that most of us are carrying some pretty heavy baggage around work. We might move faster and feel lighter if we set it down.
“I saw finance people as not real economists. That was my dad’s voice, but I dismissed the whole field.”
or
“My dad said, ‘Your mind is a Ferrari. You need to be on a racetrack. Why are you on this dirt road? You can’t go anywhere,’ and I mean, what a silly comment. I know he meant it as praise. But I felt all this shame.”
or
“After my dad left, it was really precarious for my mom and us kids. I was determined I would never, ever, ever be financially unstable again. That’s driven me this whole time. I worry if I take my eye off that ball the whole house of cards could collapse….even though I know it’s not true.”
but also….
“My parents were always working. We were in the after-after-care. That’s not the kind of parent I want to be.”
And then there’s another dad who showed up in a coaching session.
“I was telling my dad about this process, and the things that I’ve realized here, and he reminded me that when I was a kid I wanted to be a [job title]. I’d forgotten all about that dream job, maybe because I’ve been chasing all these other accolades. But he remembered, and it’s uncanny how many of the things I’ve been describing are encapsulated in that.”
Your parents were doing their best, I’m pretty sure. I’m even more sure that they want for you to be happy.
Whether their imagination expands enough to recognize that the way you might be happiest isn’t necessarily what would make them happy is something I can’t guess.
But maybe it’s time to acknowledge what they gave you, and, perhaps, let go of the constraints that their ghostly voices are placing on your next chapter.
If you want support and structure for that process, I’m here to help.
