Anonymous Turmoiler: Am I Doing Amazing, Sweetie?
Literally from the moment we are born until the day we graduate college, we are told how we’re doing.
As a toddler, we get a round of applause for walking. In elementary school, we get stickers for being kind to our friends. In middle and high school, we get an A on a test or a paper, and college professors would offer a portal so we could track our grade in their class. Everywhere we turned, there was reinforcement indicating our success—or lack thereof—in anything that we did.
But after we move our tassel to the other side of our graduation cap, we are also moving that beloved constant concrete reinforcement into obscurity.
We go on interviews and leave hoping our outfit was appropriate for their office culture or if the questions we asked were unique and analytical enough. The only way we’ll know how our interview skills are holding up is if we get a phone call for a second round. Or if we get a rejection email. But even then, is it our interview skills that are inadequate, is it our resume and experience that aren’t up to par, or is it simply that—for whatever reason—we are not as a good fit for the position as our competitor?
When we’re lucky enough to land our first job—finally receiving our first tidbit of positive reinforcement—we open the door to an absolute hurricane of obscurity.
Suddenly, we’re thrown into this career that we pretended to know a lot more about on paper, but college classes can not possibly prepare you for the intricacies of navigating office etiquette. Your boss doesn’t stop by your desk at the end of the day to pat you on the back for a job well done. Actually, most of the time you have no fucking clue how you’re doing except for when you’re not doing well. Then, your boss will point out the edits you need to make or the deadline you’re probably not going to hit in time.
It’s like we’re on this road trip and the navigation is silent.
Every so often, it’ll speak up and tell you that left turn you made was supposed to be right, but for the remaining length of the journey you just kind of guess and hope you’re going to get there. It’s not until I realized that we were so incredibly coddled as students, and that literally everyone else feels this sense of shock when they are catapulted into ~ adulting ~ that I let myself warm up to the fact that I might never really know what I’m doing or if I’m doing it right.
I don’t think that anyone ever really knows if they’re doing well on a daily basis.
It’s a learning process, constantly. Everyday. And we’ll reflect on our first year of working and realize the mistakes we made were lessons learned. And the mistakes we will definitely make in the future will serve as the same. I’ve talked to people in their 30s, 40s and even 50s who say they still don’t know what they’re doing. It’s hard to believe that, because they’ve had so much life experience that they must know something.
But then I think about my teenage self, and how I thought by my 20s I’d have it all figured out. Boy, could that not be any further from the truth. As cliche as this might sound, life would be so boring if I had it all figured out. If I was perfect at my job, what would motivate me to keep climbing the ladder? What would keep me intrigued?
I guess what I’m trying to say is that there is a certain thrill that comes with obscurity. Feeling a little lost and insecure (lol @ me The Fray) is what keeps us on our toes, pushes us to do better, and never lets life get too comfortable. Because nothing spectacular happens in your comfort zone.
