I often wonder if I’ll ever feel entirely satisfied with life. We need to keep so many plates spinning at any given moment; it’s almost impossible to keep them all spinning at the same speed continuously. A slight wobble here, a slow-down there.
For most of my younger years, I desperately sought love. Love was the only plate that wasn’t spinning and I wanted (and thought ‘needed’) it to be. My dating life resembled a frantic last-minute sale at the mall, rushing random men in and out of my life, quickly finding which fit and which did not. Spending nights and weekends in a dizzy blur of parties, noise, and new encounters. During these years, the rest of my plates (career, school, family, etc.) were spinning smoothly, not missing a beat or presenting a fumble.

Fast forwarding to the present, my juggling act has been completely flipped. With my love life on a high pedestal for the last three years, it has now been other plates’ turns to waver or fall.
While my family plate has slipped and cracked over the past few years, it continues to spin. Most of the family falterings have been easily conquered, or at least accepted. Saying goodbye to older family members who have run out of time. Distancing oneself from toxic family members. Steadying oneself through medical emergencies and scares.
And my school plate just spins automatically at this point. Spending over twenty years (of your under thirty year life) has that effect. Before you know it, school is a regular part of your day. Not an added responsibility.

But now we arrive at my career plate. When I first met my guy, my career plate was just beginning to swivel and bend. At that point, I had worked for seven years in mental health and was going to graduate school to become a Clinical Psychologist. But my passion was fading by the second. The industry I had once engraved myself in was slowly evolving into a world of lies, false prescriptions, and entitlement.
After making a career change into education, I thought things would quiet down. How wrong I was.
By falling into the wrong sector of education, for well over a year I faced sexist remarks and treatment, along with an overwhelming knowledge that I was nowhere near where I thought I’d be career-wise. Despite the setback, I continued plugging away at my graduate program and applying for new jobs.
Which brings us to now. I began working in the right sector of education in January at a college not too far from home. But I worry I’ll never feel entirely at home in any profession as I continue to silence my creative urgings.

A holistic view among those who narrow their focus more by the day.
A positive voice among tired voices that gave up caring years earlier.
A fresh, youthful outlook among refusal to change.
When will my wanderlust be quenched? When will I find where I belong?
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