Refreshing my inbox won’t make an awaited email appear any faster. I know this. Of course I know this. But that certainly doesn’t stop me from clicking that little circular arrow every thirty seconds. Waiting for good news—in this case, a coveted job offer—is excruciating, and if constantly reloading my Gmail makes it marginally more tolerable, then I will continue refreshing all day long.
Read MoreI, on the other hand, have no one. I like to tell everyone I’m happy, but I’m really just pretending. Sure, I’m grateful for a million things, including my job. I love work. Work keeps my mind busy, and so I’m always there. I’m there on off days; I’m there even when my boss says, “Go home.” I wait around. Biding my time. Fighting the loneliness. I distract myself from dawn to dusk. I wake up, I work. I sleep. Exhaustion is my liquor. Exhaustion keeps me from feeling too much, from missing anyone too much.
Read MoreSometimes, I feel like I know too much to move. It’s this wormhole of worry I get sucked into when I think about how to do something right that’s got me glue-sticked down to my sheets. I know the adhesive isn’t very strong and getting up is possible, but also not necessary. I mean… I don’t even have to pee. I’m also not hungry and out of groceries anyway so awake but pant-less, un-showered and groggy I stay belly-down.
Today, it’s the kids who are on my mind.
Read MoreYou know those moments where you can just tell that someone is talking about their passion, because their face is brighter and their voice more animated and their words come easily? That’s how it is talking to Lane about her art, and nothing makes this “FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!” heart of mine happier than seeing a friend so passionately pursue what makes her come alive.
Welcome to the launch of The Creative Exchange featuring artwork and products created exclusively for That First Year by our fellow peers.
Read MoreSeveral years ago, I was at World Market with a boy I loved, looking at dining room tables, and he’d just said he liked a certain one because it was the right size to work at and have the person across from you rest their feet in your lap. I replied, “I want to be her. I want to be the girl with her feet in your lap.”
Read MoreWhen I graduated from college I had two majors, a corporate job lined up, and an apartment that looked like a Pinterest board come to life. I felt good about the future and couldn’t wait to meet the woman I was about to become—“I’ll bet she wears turtlenecks!” I would think to myself, “She’ll be cute and boyish, but everyone will know she’s powerful because her job takes her to Europe.”
Read MoreI thought leaving home was the hardest thing I had ever done. Turns out, going back home several months later only to realize that place is no longer home was even harder.
Read MoreI imagine hospice is a bit like blowing into your hands during a blizzard. A small moment of warmth. A reprise until you let the whiteness consume you. I’m not afraid of this whiteness. I’m not even afraid of the trying-to-stay-warm part. What keeps me up at night is the grief.
Read MoreWhen I began my first full-time job, I adapted a personal daily affirmation for my journey. I began this practice after reading that the simple act of turning your palms up can drastically change your mental state. Turning your palms upward adjusts your mind and body to become more open both physically and mentally. Not only that, but it is also a nearly universal gesture of trust and willingness to listen, therefore creating a more welcoming approach to others.
Read MoreAs young post-grad writers, we often find one another invited to the same pity party. It’s an ongoing gathering, one that Facebook pesters you about seven gazillion times a day. Officially, the event is called: What On Earth Are You Gonna Write About/Fulfill Your Lifelong Dream With/While Holding Some Shred of Dignity With Your Laptop and Cappuccino, held at Location TBD from 6:30 pm through eternity. And everyone in the written world is invited. There is also a 40 percent chance of rain.
Read MoreI was in the middle of working on an assignment where I had to accompany a client home on the train. This first job after college had me crying some days over how stressful it was, on top of not being anywhere I had planned for my career to go. As the days progressed, I became more depressed, continually feeling less sane than the first day it hit me that this job had not been meant for me long term.
Read MoreRemoved from the college bubble and re-planted in a new life, the field is wiped clean again. I have to again make a real, conscious decision about where I fit in and how I stack up. There seem to be metrics in place for who’s “winning” post-grad—high-power job? committed relationship? best apartment? coolest city?—but there’s no prize.
Read MoreYou should know, and you may find it ironic, that you’re reading an article on overcoming perfectionism from a Class A perfectionist.
If anything, I hope it makes you feel less alone, less crazy, more understood, and more capable of overcoming its downsides. Because perfectionists are already harder on themselves than anyone else, so when others put their flaws in the spotlight, it’s crippling. Worse than crippling, actually - it is suffocating.
Read More"I'm moving to Canada."
That's something so many of us have heard, or even said ourselves, over the past week once America's long-awaited election results stared us in the face. Canada's immigration site even crashed from too many disgruntled, scared, devastated Americans looking for a way out. Canada will be better, we thought. In Canada we can find our peace.
Read MoreHave you ever felt as if you’re always two steps behind the life you had planned? I’m tired. I’m tired of wet eyes and a dry spirit. I’m tired of the dreams that keep me awake at night. And most of all, I’m tired of the burden of the life I’m not living as I crumble under its tantalizing weight.
Read More
