Written by Leah Ruehlicke
Photo: Rachel Feinstein
When the initial shock wore off after my long-term relationship ended, what I immediately felt was panic about my career. I was 35. My life was privileged and nice. I had a healthy family and a strong friend circle and a lil cat and a great job and a fucking killer book collection. It was nice.
But it wasn’t impressive. I didn’t have my own business, I wasn’t Exec team level, I didn’t have a thriving side hustle or a charity that I founded when I was 29. And when my near future involved walking down the aisle or becoming a Mom, that felt fine. It was fine. But without those things, all it was was that: a non-impressive life.
I mean, when you don’t have children you’re supposed to have your career, right?
“My job is my baby,” people say as they come from speaking events and op-eds where they talk about being a young CEO. And people accept that. But my job wasn’t my baby. I liked it. I do like it. I’m good at it and it’s energizing and thought-provoking and I love my colleagues and I would say I do feel successful in my career, overall. But not successful enough to warrant having nothing else.
Feeling like all my friends were getting married while I was eating potato chips.
“I am not successful enough.” That thought ran through my head constantly.
In my late twenties, I used to write about this kind of thing a lot; feeling behind in life. Feeling lost and unsure and directionless. Feeling like all my friends were getting married while I was eating potato chips. But hey, no one knows what they’re doing! Everyone’s a little lost and a little found even if it doesn’t look like it. Life’s weird, hehe, haha! It’s fine! But it did not feel fine this time. I no longer identified with this cheeky little hehe. I felt like I had fundamentally failed. As a woman, a daughter, a professional. As a human being on this GODFORSAKEN EARTH. I would lie awake at night doomscrolling LinkedIn, of all things, stuck in a blind panic about the fact I did not have a proper professional brand.
Not only had I failed in giving my parents a grandchild, I had failed in giving myself an identity; in being known for something beyond having a great friend circle and a lil cat and a fucking killer booking collection. How had this happened? I was supposed to be more by now. “I’ve failed as a woman and a person,” I told my therapist when I finally had the courage to face what was happening to me. “I’ve failed in so many different ways it’s almost unbelievable.” “Okok there is a lot to unpack there,” she said.
How had this happened? I was supposed to be more by now.
We talked about how there are certain things in life society has deemed worth celebrating: new families, new homes, new jobs. We call these things milestones; life events. We like these photos on Instagram regardless of how well we know the person; our offices send gift cards with a “CoNgRaTs On ThIs NeW cHaPtEr!!!!” message.
And the thing is, these so-called milestones are not only worth celebrating, they are lovely to celebrate. I want to celebrate these things, because these things make people I love very happy and I want the people I love to feel very happy. But when you don’t achieve these milestones society has deemed worthy of celebrating, you feel like your entire life, in general, is not worth celebrating. And not only is that feeling sad, it’s weirdly embarrassing. I’m embarrassed I don’t have children; a diamond ring. I’m embarrassed I don’t have my own business to launch. I’m embarrassed I don’t have a societally-approved milestone to my name. And the question of whether or not I want all of those things; of whether those things actually make sense for my life feels hilariously beside the point. Because it is simply too easy to get swept up in what society celebrates us doing, and wanting, needing that.
But then three things happened: 1) I cried in my car, 2) I talked to a bunch of people who have hit these beloved milestones and still feel like shit about themselves, and 3) I responded to something in a Zoom chat. All of these things led to a pretty decent epiphany.
Then I realized…everyone feels like shit about themselves?
First I cried in my car: someone made an offhand comment about my life being in transition, and I drove home sobbing to Pink Pony Club. Is that what my life was at 35? A life in transition, with nothing to ground me somewhere? How awful. How embarrassing.
Then I realized…everyone feels like shit about themselves? “There’s still this feeling of ‘ok what’s next though’”, someone said to me post-wedding and house purchase. “You never get the satisfaction of someone appearing and saying you did it all right, you’re good now, you can relax.” It felt like everyone I talked to had this prevailing feeling of needing to do more, be more, be better. Does nobody feel like they’ve done enough?
And then I joined a Zoom meeting. I was at work (hello successful career woman!) in a meeting talking strategy and lost in an endless spitball of ideas with no clear end goal. “Come on people, OUTCOMES NOT TACTICS” someone wrote in the Zoom chat. “Let’s put that on a hat” I responded, because haha good one.
But then I was like whoa, outcomes not tactics. Does this apply to…my entire life? We’ve defined these tactics as life milestones and that’s what society pushes us to celebrate. But really, we’re celebrating [the wedding, the house, the new business] because of the outcomes: finding love and joy! Security! Stability! Finding meaning and/or fulfillment and/or financial success!
These are beautiful things! And it’s very possible to have these outcomes via paths. AND IT’S ALSO EASY TO FORGET THAT THIS IS TRUE; that you can have love and security in your life without a partner; financial success and a smarty-pants vibe without being a CEO. That there are a million ways to achieve the end goals you want and all of them are valid!!!! That we are all in transition, always, and just trying to feel like we’re doing a good enough job at getting somewhere.
I still struggle with this, I still don’t feel like enough. But I don’t think any of us do? And maybe there is a nugget here that we can hold onto. That nobody feels like they’ve ‘done the thing’. That life is a constant transition, and our ability to ride the wave, to find peace and intention and fulfillment in a way that makes sense for our own lives, is the ultimate thing worth celebrating.
And that maybe, maybe, WE ARE ALL MORE THAN ENOUGH <3
About the Author:
Leah Ruehlicke is a freelance writer living downtown Toronto, successfully navigating a career in Tech and a weekly muffin recipe. You can follow her on Insta for upcoming articles and her fave beer recos.