Life rarely turns out the way we planned or hoped it would. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If you’re of a certain age, you likely grew up with the stereotypical mid-20th Century American Dream symbolized by the “white picket fence.” This ideal life was supposed to denote success, security, and stability. Middle-class prosperity in a peaceful environment. Homeownership and a family consisting of a spouse and 2.5 kids. Having grown up in the counterculture and anti-war sentiment of the late 1960s, neither I nor any of my friends aspired to this ideal. Still, it existed and was spoken of regularly, if not as a throwback joke to post-World War II values. Ironically, most of us did follow conventional norms, marrying, having children and becoming homeowners. Some became doctors, lawyers and accountants, while others had more than one career, like yours truly.
Consequences of Life Choices
Thinking back, I have lived a wonderful life despite it turning out quite differently than I had imagined. Full of gratitude for all I have—both spiritual and material—I hold few regrets. I got married the first time before I became of legal age and became a homeowner at the age of 23. Not so common these days but it’s the way things turned out for me. If I had to do it again, I would have waited to get married till I was closer to 30. Still, the choices I made shaped my life in unique ways and who knows what would have happened had I done things differently. Like putting off educational goals for 10 years.
Determined to get my undergraduate degree, I returned to academia while working part-time, becoming a junior in college in my mid-30s, rubbing shoulders with 18- and 20-year-olds still wet behind the ears. Armed with focus and drive, no longer distracted by dating or desiring to party and carouse all weekend, I studied my butt off, especially in science classes. Disciplined and driven, I loaded up with 20 units every semester, writing term papers weeks in advance, looking forward to essay exams because I loved to write.
I recall vividly the first assignment in my first journalism class at USC where we were instructed to compose our own obituaries. Our own obituaries? Yes, the professor said. Write about the life you want to have. Thinking it odd but understanding the professor’s wicked sense of humor with the idealistic freshmen sitting in front of him, I wrote from a more mature perspective, inserting more fantasy than fact. It was a fun task. I died at 95, having been the first female owner of an American Football team. I didn’t really believe that would be my fate, but I allowed my inventiveness to flow uninhibitedly. Just as I do when I write my novels. I don’t remember if we were graded on that assignment, but the process of compiling it likely foreshadowed my talent to be bold and run wild with imagination.
Never Too Late to Recreate Yourself
I am forever grateful to have the ability to recreate myself, starting with having the courage to return to college at 34 and then begin a new career close to 40. Four years later, I dove head-first into another career, recruiting, knowing nothing about that profession. Always young at heart, and able to blend in with those much younger than I, I was never intimidated by being older or fearful of ageism. If no one asked my age—except human resources—I never volunteered it. I recall being “carded” at a restaurant when I was 44; so, passing 10+ years younger was easy for me.
The other day, I had a wonderfully stimulating conversation with a Chief Marketing and Branding candidate who responded to my message on LinkedIn. Although gainfully employed, his current project was nearing an end, and he was tired of working for nonprofits. Desiring to transition into the for-profit world, he expressed his frustration with failing to garner any interviews yet in that realm. He told me forthrightly that he was 50, and, in his opinion, his window of opportunity was becoming smaller. Sensing his urgency in finding a new job, I encouraged him not to be stymied by a number and never think of age as an inhibitor to discover new paths in life. I immediately shared my lifelong experience with recreating myself, which afforded me much success in several industries. He was still young, I said, and had many more creative and useful years ahead of him.
He thanked me for the honest and positive dialogue, saying no other recruiter had ever encouraged him like I did. I appreciated his kind words. Helping others always brings me joy. I hope he heeds my “advice” and breaks through that imaginary glass ceiling.