the weekly: flexible ambition

I’ve never felt particularly ambitious. For some reason that eldest daughter trait missed me. Crippling anxiety? Sure. An unrelenting desire to succeed? Not so much. Instead, I’ve managed to semi-float through life. Earning degrees. Getting jobs. Sometimes moving up with a promotion. Always kind of arbitrarily taking on a new role, or joining a new company, or embarking on a new path without a whole lot of forethought. Generally, it’s worked out fine, but I’ve always admired those that at a young age can see their future. Those that seem to have it all figured, or at least planned, out. They know the job they want, the company they wish to work for, the title they think would make them happy. They know they need to save for retirement and invest in the stock market and live within their means. They see a vision, a future. They have goals. A path. I’m sure life doesn’t always work out as planned for them - because it so rarely does - but it seems to me, at least, that they know they need to work for something. To work towards something. That they are able to see a bigger picture.

It’s not that I never had that urge, the drive. I think I did, here and there. I know I did, here and there. But it got lost along the way. Somewhere between the all night raves and the fun chasing and the city lights I began to prioritize life in the way it felt that moment, not how I wanted it to look 5, 10, even one year in the future. It was easier that way, to lean in to what was happening right then and there, too scary to look down the path and face what I, frankly, wasn’t ready for at the time. Responsibility. Structure. Accountability. I wasn’t ready to adult.

Until I was.

It hit me hard; sometime amidst the stay at home orders and endless boxed wine of 2020. It may have been because we were home, and things felt crazy and wild and out of control and unpredictable. I was used to things being crazy. But the crazy was my doing, and I was under the impression that I could stop it at any time. The crazy of 2020, however, was not a crazy I could influence nor exert control over. So instead I finally had to exert control over my life and my choices. Towards the end of that year, I realized it was time for more. That the clock had run out on chasing fun, and had started to tick in other ways. Not really biologically, because although, sure, yes, I was getting older, it felt more pertinent that I get my shit together career-wise. That I finally start making, and saving, money. That I finally start to think about where I wanted to end up and what that path might look like. It was a slow burn, of course. Old habits die hard, and the madness of Covid did as well. But I started to feel committed then to actually making progress in my career, planning for my future. It felt nice!

And as life trodded on and I started a new job and I began to see glimpses of what could be it all felt very exciting. It felt refreshing to put so much effort into something that, potentially, could provide big things - big money, big title, big responsibility, big decisions, big authority. The glimmers of hope that the new job could be the job; based in part by promises and plans laid out by bosses and in part by a realization that I am, actually, good at what I do. And then life took another turn, I got pregnant, things at work derailed, and I was left, again, feeling depleted, disappointed, frustrated. Questioning, again, my skills and talents, my contributions, my worth. Feeling like I was starting at square one again, wondering where to go or what to do next.

I was lucky to eventually land a job that I quite like and company that, like any company, has it’s imperfections but generally, I also quite like. But it’s a small company, and opportunities for growth are limited. That realization early on ran face first into the wall of ambition I was starting to feel, brought on by looking my daughter in the eyes and needing to “succeed” for her - whatever that means. And all of it put together - the striver days of my early twenties, the light trying period filled with more fun than was healthy of my late twenties, the covid induced chaos of my early thirties, and now the motherhood sparked drive of my now - has left me simultaneously feeling behind and like the world is my oyster, exhausted and energized, burnt out and inspired, overwhelmed and ambitious (those pesky ands again). I feel like I’m in this strange middle land of at once not feeling like I need to be doing the most at work all the time, while also wanting to feel accomplished there. I am wanting to write this, build this, nurture this to become something more than a hobby while also staring squarely down the enemy of time, knowing minutes are hard to come by and years are fleeting.

And so I stay in the middle. Doing what I can with what I have - be that time, creative energy, opportunity, or empowerment. I’m learning to think of it as flexible ambition. A type of ambition that is, rather than being all consuming, comes in waves, and fits as a piece in the puzzle of a larger life. That ambition, striving, moving forward at work and in personal projects is important; but so is a full life, a well rounded life, one with peaks and valleys and park days and rest and work and playtime and pausing and boredom and knowing that sometimes, the bare minimum can be enough.

And that’s reflected in what I wear. This strange middle ground between two parts, knowing I want more while also being comfortable with what is. It means some days I want heels and power suits and some days I need sneakers and elastic waist pants and sometimes I need elastic waist pants and heels because why the hell not? Trying to be calculated and reasonable and dress within the constraints of my life while also trying to “dress for the job I want” and taking chances and risks. Sometimes doing the bare minimum, sometimes doing the most. And letting both of those things lead me where they may, both in my personal style and in my job, career, personal pursuits.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I am working on making peace with my path. Learning to love the missteps and slow growth, the forced pauses and setbacks, the occasional pushes forward and desire for more. The longer I sit with it, the more I look around and notice what I do have, the easier it is. In a world filled with competition and striving, having comfort in what is can be hard, and comparison is a hard habit to break. But if there was a single path, a single way to find success in this world, a single way to live a life, how boring would that be?

Moving on!

Below the paywall this week you’ll find:

• A pre-fall collection that really nails it

• A pretty long list of things I want right now

• An excellent book I just finished

• What I’ve been wearing lately

• Some notes on a recent self care meltdown

• Who my next “taking notes” guest is!

Enjoy!

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TWO MORE QUICK THINGS:

If you’re in New York City: early voting starts tomorrow, Saturday, June 14. Please, PLEASE make sure you get out there and vote in the primary and be sure to fill in all five slots. This primary will likely determine who our next mayor is, and that matters a lot right now. The City x Gothamist put out a really accessible guide to the candidates, and they even have a quiz to help guide you with your rankings, if you need some clarity. Regardless, every. vote. counts. so please do your part and VOTE.

If you are planning to protest: please read up how to do it safely, and read up on your rights. I believe strongly in the power of peaceful protest, and I encourage you to get out there if you can tomorrow. Just be safe and look out for one another. Please.