amazing what people will say to a woman who is just going about her business, and would prefer to be left alone, solely because she happens to have a fetus on board. i’ve gotten accustomed to the “when is the baby due” and “are you having a boy or girl” inquiries- i can see them coming based on where oncoming eyes are focused.

but people do nice things, too. tonight someone kindly offered me a chair so i could sit down during a short wait for a table at a local restaurant. i thanked her, and assumed that was the end of our interaction. instead, she felt she had earned the right to hover around me, asking the usual questions. and i tolerated it, but focused on continuing my ongoing conversation with my husband and giving him the occasional “do you see what i put up with” eyeroll. and then she asked me something mind-meltingly stupid.

“do you work?”
umm, yes, what else would i do with my time?
“when are you going to quit your job? you’re not taking some time off and going back, are you?”
in fact, i am taking time off until my daycare spot opens up and then i am going to go back.
[inner monologue: fuck you, lady! i've put almost a dozen years into getting here, and my work is important to me too, so shove it up your ass!]
“oh. well. [snort] “
here i see it’s time to make the stoneface as she makes a complete asshole of herself and i think of how i would like to poke her in the eyeball with that fork laying over there…
“[some convoluted relative person] has her kid in daycare, it’s just horrible how she drops her off and leaves her when they have something like 2 or 3 infants per daycare provider…”
stoneface. keep. making. stoneface.
and then our wait ended, and fixer took me away and calmed me down before i committed battery.

these attitudes amaze me. first, the assumption that any woman who is 9 months into her pregnancy is not a dangerous creature who should not be provoked with such nonsense. second, the perception that women should all quit their jobs because, omg, teh behbeh! this says to me that, clearly, we have no other purpose once this offspring thing happens. which is a load of horseshit.

i personally faced a huge uphill battle at my workplace due to these prevailing attitudes. i work in a pretty badass scientific center, but the middle-to-senior leadership are mostly grayhairs whose wives stay home with the kids and keep them free from kid-related responsibilities. if they have spouses or families at all. the perceptions of these grayhairs shapes local culture, of course. so when i went and turned up all pregnant and whatnot, it was a huge effort to convince the relevant people that i remained committed to my career and actually wished to come back after appropriate postpartum recovery time. from what i can gather- though i have flogged myself and pushed well beyond the limits that any reasonable human being should set up during this type of physiological challenge, in some cases to my own detriment- there are still parties that will believe i’m coming back when they see it.

so thanks for that, society. thanks for the extra hurdles, because i haven’t jumped enough of them yet.

not helpful to my case (but perhaps the right choice for her, and that’s just fine) was the more senior female who gave up her position shortly after announcing her pregnancy. department culture was all afire with that story, right as my own abdomen started to get notably round. awesome timing.

thanks, cultural standards, highlighting that other woman’s decision as The Right One or The Typical One, and then comparing to me.

but i keep returning to the question of why, for twentysomething years, people did not feel compelled to trample on my day by asking me invasive questions about my life choices based on some unique aspect of my appearance. (except the people who feel compelled to ask about my racial background, but i generally have to assume someone like that has other issues.) one appearance-changing episode lasting several months and suddenly everyone has the right to ask everything of someone who is pretty much out of patience (who perhaps never had a lot to begin with).

how about you just smile at the lady, because we all know there’s a baby in there and we all know how it got there and we all know she has some interesting decisions ahead of her, and move along? having the incredible audacity to show oneself in public while pregnant is not the same as giving permission to be interrogated or lectured about women’s proper places in society.

i seem to have run out of coy little ways to slip big news into innocent conversation, and i’ve been pretty damn tired lately. so, here’s the news:

we’re expecting to welcome a new person into the world in roughly a month.

there, i said it. after months of silence, and preceding what will likely be another dry spell as i frantically (exhaustedly) manage life and work preparations in advance of the onslaught of insanity, i blow off the blog dust with that.

but before we descend into further madness, i wanted to put some thoughts out there.

1. it seems like all kinds of people tell you there is no “right” time to have kids. so far, i have decided i both agree and disagree with this. personally, there was a time when this would have destroyed me. and i mean the entire experience. so absolutely there was a “wrong” time in my life, which basically comprised my entire 20s and everything before them. and certainly i can imagine things being a little bit better than they are presently, particularly on the issue of early-career job stability (not just for myself). but, eventually there was a point where good enough was good enough.

2. crippling cluelessness (and general unawareness of being in this state) is almost as bad as malice, but not quite. i do not have the luxury of a traditional employment situation. it’s great for my CV to have this nice award and all, but i have found myself in a lot of limbo due to people not knowing how to properly handle a temporary situation. this has caused me a great deal of stress that did not need to happen. had i been a traditional employee, i would have had more means to push back. and i am not one to *not* push back against damn near everything.

3. so far, attempting this in a postdoc-type career stage (i say “type” because my situation does not match exactly what one imagines in an academic postdoc) has been pretty decent. scientifically, i have a decent amount of autonomy. i am still free from quite a bit of the beat-you-over-the-head administrative stuff associated with my workplace, but i have a fair bit of lower level admin crap responsibilities. i am able to plan things out and make proper arrangements so that, after having busted my ass far too much in the lead-up weeks, i should have things in the hopper while i’m gone, with minimal experiments-ground-to-a-halt time. i am not sure how well this would have gone at any other career stage, though i’m sure it works out regardless.

4. i approached the news with a bit of trepidation, wondering how well i was going to handle this emotionally. especially as my work situation went through some difficulties early on. i don’t exactly come from a world that has shown me a lot of kindness. i’ve surprised myself, somehow i’ve actually rooted in more-solid ground and gained some confidence in my own inner strength and ability to handle my shit. i have had to dig up some old and painful stuff from many years ago for something that may be in my future. last year, i would have taken all of this very hard. now? i can take a deep breath and know that part of my life is never coming back for me.

i have overcommitted myself over the next few weeks in order to keep things flying while i’m gone. but i gotta learn some better balance in the long run… it’s not gonna be optional. already, the struggle to keep up with the pace i had previously set for myself has been instructive, to say the least.

but i couldn’t know what i was in for until i got here.

Dr. Isis has an interesting post tonight, in which someone asks if s/he could become a scientist.

to my awareness, there is no mold that we scientists all come from. if there is, i must have gotten where i am by sneaking through the side door when nobody was looking.

like any profession, scientists come from all walks in life. we have our strengths and our weaknesses. we try to leverage the strengths and improve at the weaknesses. (of course, i should mention that the greatest strength is in recognizing your weaknesses.) generally, in my day to day, i see tendencies to share the traits of “enjoy science” and “crazy enough to try to make a living out of it” but beyond that… there is no checklist of what you must bring to the table or else you’re doomed to epic failure.

my training/career track did not always reflect that i was on course to become a scientist. i say, all the better for it. you are the sum of your experiences, after all.

if there are infinite walks of life that could lead one to become a scientist, i think it follows that there are infinite ways to contribute to science. science is not one single job, nor one single field, requiring one sort of scientist. but this is a recently aggravated pet peeve of mine- science is not one single sector, either. the best and brightest science is not exclusive to the hallowed labs of acadame.

i was facing some tough stuff recently. someone thought they were being helpful by telling me, “but look, you’ve already done the hardest part.”

neglected is the part about the work of carrying on through the valleys and ridges of life, knowing what you left behind is in fact behind you, and yet its shadow is still with you-  and sometimes it’s more with you than other times. that is no small thing.

part of me is happy to watch certain parties self-destruct, thereby doing all the hard work for me. and perhaps that’s the better way, the more fitting way, in the end. but the other part of me has wanted to personally finish that job for some time. that’s that damn shadow lurking just over my shoulder.

consider the following:

1. every time the world tries to knock me down a notch, i come back stronger.

2. the world seems to be at this pretty much perpetually, but even the above-the-background-noise instances are damn frequent.

3. i’m so acclimated to getting shit kicked at me that i’m always preparing for it.

i think the right combination of the above is the only reason that:

a. i am still kicking

b. i somehow keep on elevating myself despite my 99.99% doubts in my ability to do so and astonishment when i succeed.

 

why yes, i am having a pretty epic week over here. is that correlated with last week nearly taking me out? the resulting inner compensation pouring out this week? perhaps. i’ll never know for sure. but ya take what ya can get.

alright, so it probably wasn’t as bad as career destruction, but i was totally going in the wrong direction in the last place i worked. i recognized the signs within a month of beginning, that my interview had sold me on something that did not exist. being the type that has little trouble rolling with the punches, i thought i’d just go with it and try to shape my experiences as i went. no success. it didn’t take long before i was stealthily on the job market again, and just hoping to minimize my losses.

there was a lot of hopelessness in the middle. after all, i had just spent several years being miserable as a grad student. (excepting my grad lab, i hated damn near every aspect of my grad school experience. i say this now after having had some time to develop some misty nostalgia and finding myself lacking in any of it.) finding myself even MORE miserable as a postdoc was a hard blow to take when i was already down. i constantly questioned myself- and eventually wondered if maybe i just wasn’t cut out for science after all. while i was questioning myself, my confidence was also taking direct hits from the rocky seas i was sailing through at work.

this does not really prime one for looking like a great candidate on a job interview. somehow i managed it well enough. fortunately, i was able to navigate my way to something better and get my career back on track. there are posts and posts i could write about this process, but frankly i’m just now starting to get my writing back on track, and i’m really not about to start getting into that subject yet.

but there are some good lessons i have learned, now that i can look back. and now that i’ve gotten myself on the track i want to take.

1. things are not always what they seem. but sometimes they are, and sometimes you still don’t like them as much as you thought you would.

2. your career direction can always change. you just gotta focus on staying afloat when you do it, and you gotta do it carefully. there are a lot of ways to do it right, but there are more ways to do it wrong.

3. nobody cares more about your career than you do. if you remember anything, remember this. in the end, you have to look out for yourself.

 

i have things back on the path i was seeking. i’m very fortunate, and i’m very happy to be in my present shoes. i’m getting awesome data, i’m doing epic science, and there are few things i can do professionally that i can imagine being this rewarding. so much of my non-work life has improved by leaps and bounds as direct and indirect results of this career path shift. i got my spouse and my relationship back when i finally got rid of the pressure that had taken over my life. i got my health back, and my weight is down to where i was around the end of my first year of grad school. i got my happiness back with some balance in my life and some time to play with my bike. today, the lessons of the hardships behind me only make me better for the experience. in the thick of it, i never imagined i would be able to say that.

this has been chafing at me for over a day. i am going to get a little ranty about it.

why am i only “lucky” to have the good things in my life? and to counter that, why is something lackluster in my life always due to my own personal failings?

sure, i’ve had many strokes of good fortune in my life, or i wouldn’t be around anymore for one. additionally, i’ve got myriad personal failings, including the neverending desire to throttle the next person who attributes my accomplishments to luck.

but let’s be clear here. i have taken the luck where i could get it, and then moved mountains in my life to get where i am. you have no fucking idea where i started and how far i’ve hauled myself out of that mire to get here. you never will. but i can say that your type, “lucky” comment-maker, is the type that would have told me how very sorry you felt for me back in the day when i was fighting for my life and you were lounging around with an actual roof over your head. the type that felt pity and superiority over me and hoped i would enjoy my inevitable career in unskilled labor.

clearly, i intimidate you if you need to attribute my getting here to sheer luck of the draw. i should take that as a compliment. someday i might. but for now? fuck you.

i have never liked the word “victim” – our language gives it some unpleasant connotations. nothing detracts from identity like having that kind of label affixed to you. and in the case of something that shatters a life, that experience ends up following you around. with the label, “victim, victim, victim,” at every turn.

the word “survivor” is better. it implies that one has encountered a challenge and endured it. and i think some days that’s the best i’ve accomplished anyway.

every summer i feel myself slipping back in time- reality fades and the vivid recollections of summer events long gone invade my senses. at this one milepost, i am stuck, time and time again. no matter how many miles i put between the survivor and those events- no matter how i change my life- no matter anything else- inevitably i run across the “go directly to jail” space on the board. do not pass go. do not go anywhere. you’re never escaping this.

all the years, all the accomplishments, the moving on, the hard work. it all falls away. like it never even happened. and there i am, exposed even under these layers i’ve constructed- waiting, for that something to find me. for that singular something to break me again.

i’ve moved beyond the just-surviving stage. except…

wow, it’s been a while since i’ve posted anything up over here. i thought after i started up the scientopia blog i’d come back here for the personal thoughts, but look, it’s been something like 6 months and here i’m just getting around to dust this place off a little.

damn. [gets spray-air can, choking, sprays around]

anyway, long story short, i’ve wrangled my career back on whatthefuckever track it’s on (if you can identify it, let me know, because i have no idea where the hell it’s going) and i’m re-assembling my personal shit piece by piece. work is busy but peachy. i got the challenges i was asking for- i got more than i asked for, frankly. i have the science rolling at unprecedented levels of awesome, and i’m on track to produce some nice, solid papers to establish myself in this shift-of-subfield. the personal shit seems harder to regroup than the career, but i suppose that’s a matter of fucked up priorities. i’m workin’ on it. but in the meantime, for something quantifiable, i’m back to my early grad school weight (if not pre-first-year… i can’t say i kept track back then, foolish me.)

i’ve been thinking how the other times i’ve made some big change in life/career phase, i’ve taken it as some kind of eye-opening experience. in particular, college gave me a brand new lease on life in so. many. ways. not the least of which was finally having a reliable roof over my head, but in so many other ways i experienced a life i had never seen before. i wiped the scuffs and the dirt off my trampled soul along the river and in the trails of that place, let it dry and re-harden in the clearings under the sun and the tall grass, and i learned who i was on the inside. i had never had that kind of undistracted opportunity to think and reflect.

but now, in the productive postdoc phase? nothing. i can’t process this new, this unfamiliar.

i realize i need to go home. to that muddy water rushing over the rocks, to those rock faces that induce sheer heart-lifting joy, to the lookout point where the perspective is so very different in every way. ostensibly, yes, the trip is to go visit my family. but in reality? those wild places elsewhere in the state are calling me by name.

it’s been years. i am not that same girl who took the first steps on this trail. i am not the one who made the last hike with the girls before moving out and moving on to something unfamiliar. i’m not the second-year grad student who came back wishing only for things to be simple like they used to. i’m someone different- the experiences necessitate the change.

but who am i now? i want to take a break, to let go of the things dragging on me over the years. i want to spend my hours on the trails actively distracting myself from the things that don’t need to be on my mind. i want to lay on my back on that big rock face in the sun and see nothing between me and the sky. like i used to. i learn things up there that i just can’t figure out where i am right now.

you can’t go home… but you absolutely can be your present self in a setting that helped you change your life for the better once before.

i’ve never been the least bit tolerant of being stepped on. i’ve seen far too many attempts come at me, i can identify that shit miles away, and i don’t respond well to it. i will not make the least hesitation to walk away from those situations. i may be a nobody postdoc in my field, but i have my limits.

in my first postdoc, they skipped the stepping-on attempts and opted for the steamroller. just a few months and sheer exhaustion of running from that steamroller later, i initiated a job search. if they were going to treat postdocs that way, i wasn’t going to volunteer to sacrifice my career/self-respect/self-confidence for it. i did the science there dispassionately and because i had to, i wrote an award application with full intensity, and i waited. and waited. and waited for that award letter.

in the meantime i got crushed under that steamroller. i fell apart in so many ways, i can’t even describe them all. i even lost sight of who i was- the people i met there never got to know the real me. but i stuck it out and ended things as professionally as possible- because they hadn’t destroyed my self-respect. the day i quit that job was the best day of my post-doctoral life, but it also found me the lowest and most wretched that i had felt/been in many years.

if there ever was a test of my resiliency, that would be it. i’ve seen my share of adversity and bounced back to functionality from all of it, but this was a different kind of monster. it took a lot of work, but a few months after that ordeal ended i’ve mastered yet another comeback. i’ve put the pieces of my life back together once again. the things about myself that i lost have been located and shined up a bit. my sleeves are rolled up, my ass-kicking boots are on, sights are laser-focused on my new goals in my new environment. i have yet to be knocked off-course by some fuckwit with power-abusing tendencies.