What was I made for?
Apparently finding a meaningful career isn't that easy for me
While I haven’t watched the Barbie movie yet, I have heard one of its songs, and it perfectly encapsulates my sentiments of late:
What prompted these feelings was a recent job interview I had. I was pretty excited about a role at a research nonprofit near me, and going into our conversation, the hiring manager was, too. But things turned for the worse when I stumbled through a curveball question. After that, I felt like I was drugged because I basically don’t remember a single thing I or the hiring manager said. Well, except one thing: when I asked her what she envisioned the organization’s brand to be down the line, she said the word “reserved.”
That hit me like a cartoon anvil falling from the sky.
I don’t see that moment as a glitch in my interviewing process. I see it as a pivotal sign of a troubling identity crisis, a can I’ve kicked down the road over many years. It’s becoming crystal clear that I’ve been building a resume—and ultimately career—that says things on the outside that don’t reflect who I really am or want to be at this point.
I’ve seen myself as a scientist-type for so long, but the truth is, I’m kind of the opposite. I may be quiet in person, but reserved is one of the last things I’d call myself. I have a bold personality with a penchant for the artistic and dramatic (case in point: I religiously and shamelessly follow red carpet fashion every awards season). I’m a big dreamer with a lot of heart, soul, and passion—the kind of person I’m slowly realizing doesn’t fit into the standard corporate communications, or even science, mold.
So this begs the question: what was I made for?
If I were to be truly honest, I’m ok completely shedding any professional affiliation with science. But like being in a relationship with a bad boyfriend, it’s hard to break up with something you’ve invested so much time and effort into. I don’t have any other way to make income apart from science right now, so that’s why I continue to apply for science-related jobs. The practical side of me says that a job is just a job to pay the bills.
But I know in my heart that I’ll never be 100% convinced of that. The pull towards finding my “real” purpose remains ever so strong—it’s a force so great that I can’t escape.
A while back, I read Steve Jobs’s autobiography because I was interested in learning about the history of Apple’s product development. But what I took away from the book was this unexpected realization that like Jobs, I want to build or create something that embodies the unique vision I have of the world. In its heyday, Apple was Steve, and Steve was Apple. I don’t know what the Apple equivalent is for me, but I know at a very deep level I haven’t found it yet. I think I got pretty close when I did my startup communications work, but unfortunately, those were short-lived, dead-end opportunities. With nothing on the horizon, I’m forced to dig into what I really want to do in life because there’s no external motivation helping me figure out what to do next. This is truly ex nihilo: out of nothing.
Despite all of my confusion, there are inklings of things that could turn into some sort of career. I now find myself drawn to philosophy, trying to understand what anything in life means and figuring out how to live a good life. Science doesn’t answer those questions. It can’t because that’s not what it’s supposed to do. Maybe the problem is I want science to speak to my heart and soul, but it just doesn’t.
You all have probably heard me talk about David Foster Wallace one too many times, but he is one of my favorite writers who happened to be a philosophy major. He’s sharp, witty, and funny in the kind of absurdist way that you get in stand-up comedy. (Highly recommend his collection of essays called Consider the Lobster.) So if there’s anybody I’d like to become, perhaps it’s Wallace, somebody who could talk about life in a thought-provoking, funny way. (Next in line would be Tina Fey, comedy writer extraordinaire…which is why, side note, my sourdough starter is named Liz Lemon.)
For now, I’m going to keep writing this newsletter. Some of you know that I really love the TV show Friends (90’s all the way, baby), and what I love about it is that it’s about a group of 20-somethings who go through the ups and downs of adulthood together. The funny—or sad, depending on your perspective—thing about growing up as a millennial is that you think that you’ll get everything squared away by the time you hit 30…when in fact, with increasing uncertainty of life and the world, it’s like being the 20-somethings from Friends. Even in our third decade, we still have the same questions about who we want to be, what choices we want to make, how we find love and purpose, getting and losing jobs, and all the other adult things that I don’t really see being talked about in an authentic way.
I’ve been going through Barbra Streisand’s massive memoir (almost 50 hours of audiobook narrated by the legend herself…), and she says something that I really love: “truth is the energy that touches people.” That’s what I want for this newsletter. I want to talk about stuff we’re all wondering about but maybe haven’t thought to say out loud. I want to tell stories about navigating this crazy thing called life, and I want people to know that contrary to what some might say, it’s ok to ask the big questions, and we don’t have to have everything figured out.
Baking projects!
My husband and I were recently invited to a dinner get-together, so as a gift to the hosts, I brought this lovely cheesecake that’s as tasty as it is beautiful to look at.
The original recipe is meant for a rectangular pan to make cheesecake bars and also incorporates Meyer lemons. But I only had a 9” round pan and some blood oranges, so I halved the recipe and swapped citrus fruits. The cheesecake has a mild tanginess that’s accented by the floral notes of blood orange. The pattern you see in the picture is dollops of homemade blood orange curd that got spooned on top of the batter and swirled into it in whatever way I pleased. It was like craft time as a kid.
I think at some point it would be fun to experiment with the composition of the cheesecake itself. This cheesecake calls for cream cheese and sour cream, but for that extra creamy, luscious texture a la Basque style, you usually have to add some heavy cream as well.
I also ventured into granola-making for the first time, adapting this recipe from Reddit. Yes, I’ve become that person who’s making granola at home and crowdsourcing recipes from Reddit.
I added quinoa to the granola, and since I’ve been eating a ton of quinoa these days, my husband commented, “You’ve changed from the miso lady to the quinoa lady.” (I should have added miso to the granola...next time.) 😂
Thanks for reading! As always, I appreciate your readership and your coming along on the journey I’m embarking. Reading Barbra Streisand’s memoir has been super inspiring to me, and the more I read, the more I sense that there’s something amazing waiting down the line. I don’t know what that thing is, but I’m ready for it.
For now, have a great weekend and see you all in a couple of weeks! 😎