36. I Have More to Create

One of the questions I hate answering these days is when people ask me where I’m working.

It’s not a secret what I’m up to these days, but I don’t enjoy answering the question because A. I’m not sure people understand my answer, and B. I sometimes have my own insecurities about my answer and what people are going to think.

Here’s the long answer: First, I worked at my counseling internship from May 2020-May 2021. I could have stayed after graduating, but I was extremely burned out and overwhelmed, not to mention being paid very little money. I could have cut back my client load to try to be less overwhelmed, but much of my income came from the bonuses I earned when I met certain productivity goals. And I was tired of simply surviving from session to session. I really wanted an opportunity to slow down, be intentional, and really develop as a counselor instead of feeling like I was putting out fires all day.

So I decided to leave that job and try private practice. Being brand new in the field, I had no idea that not all private practices are created equal. I took the first job I was offered because I assumed every opportunity would look the same. But I learned quickly that the culture at my new job was not a good fit for me. I didn’t mesh well with my supervisor: I felt drained after our meetings, and I had to censor parts of myself when I talked to her due to judgment that I had felt from her during our early conversations. In a field where you have to put on a very professional face to your clients all day, it’s extremely important to have an authentic and supportive relationship with your supervisor, and I simply wasn’t getting what I needed. Meanwhile, many of the other counselors who worked in the practice had been in the field for decades, and there was such cynicism in their attitudes regarding their clients. I was afraid that this would be what I would turn into if I stayed. I really liked the clients I was working with at this job, but my anxiety was sky high so much of the time. I had so little energy for friends and hobbies. Paperwork piled up but I couldn’t put it off until the next day because the next day there would always be new paperwork. I couldn’t be present with my husband when he would tell me about his day.

I left there for a job in a nonprofit, but I realized on Day 2 that this job wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. Maybe in my eagerness to leave my previous job I hadn’t done my research thoroughly enough. Maybe I was expecting what I wanted it to be instead of what it actually was explained to be. Or maybe it truly wasn’t explained well at all. No matter what it was, I’d experienced enough poor job fits at this point to know where this was headed, and I chose not to continue.

From there, I took my time jumping into something else. I started blogging. We worked on our adoption paperwork. I interviewed at a few private counseling practices that promised flexibility, fair pay, and supportive cultures. I was very honest with them about our plans to adopt and my anticipation of needing a good amount of time for family leave, and even about the fact that I had no idea how much I’d want to work once we got kids or if I’d even want to continue at all. All of the people I interviewed with were very understanding and supportive of this, and this (amazingly) didn’t seem to sway anyone’s offers for me to join their team. I accepted a job in December 2021 and began the onboarding paperwork. That same week, we got an email from our adoption agency stating that we’d been assigned a case worker who would be in touch with us in the next few days to schedule our home studies.

I had known we would get a case worker eventually, but I had been assuming it wouldn’t happen for a few more months. I was in the middle of onboarding for a new job and thinking about marketing strategies to build a client load, and now I was experiencing complete whiplash trying to wrap my head around these upcoming home studies and all there would be to do to get through that process. I remember learning that we’d gotten a case worker, and then getting in my car to drive to a nearby park. It was a gloomy, rainy December day, and I just sat in my car and cried. I was so frustrated by everything always changing just when I thought I’d found some stability.

By that point, I’d already left two counseling jobs. I’d already had two caseloads of clients with whom I’d had to go through the process of telling them I was leaving, assigning them to new therapists, and feeling so guilty knowing this person had entrusted me with so much and now I was handing them off to someone else. It’s taken me years to find a therapist I like, and I’d be so disappointed now if I had to start over with someone new. I simply could not do that to another group of clients.

Yes, I had known all along that this was the likely situation. Maybe part of me was just putting one foot in front of the other hoping it would work out. I don’t think I was in denial about the trickiness of the situation. In most fields, you can start a new job and get a lot of work done in a few months. Then you can take time off for family leave and come back when you’re ready. You can even come back part time if you need to. Not in all jobs or all fields, of course; I know I’m painting with a broad brush.

But in the counseling field, you really are kind of all in. You can’t start with more hours and then cut back if you need to, because how can you choose which clients to hand off to someone else and which ones to keep? How is it fair to your clients to start building a relationship with them only to “abandon” them after a few months? Not to mention the logistical stresses of having to find therapists with availability and facilitate the transfers. And if I needed to take 3 months off for family leave, would it be fair to expect my clients to wait for me? What if I ended up choosing not to come back, or needing more time off, and had to tell this to the clients who had been waiting for me all this time? I had no idea what our kids’ situations would be like once we got them (still don’t). I had no idea how much time to anticipate needing to take off, or how many clients I could reasonably expect to see when/if I came back. Literally so much was so unknown. I felt so stuck.

There was no guarantee of how quickly we could move through the process and get our adoption approval, and there was definitely no telling how soon we’d actually be matched with our kids. I could have put our adoption on pause while I started my new job and got established with clients. But I didn’t want to. I had been looking forward to starting our family for years, and I was ready for it. This job wasn’t worth more to me than our family. We’d already been waiting until I finished grad school and we could move into a better family home, and I just did not want to delay any more.

So, really, my only option seemed to be to not go forward with this new job after all, and focus on keeping our adoption moving forward. But also, to focus on my writing as well.

As of today, March 23, 2022, we are approved adoptive parents in the state of Ohio. We’ve made it through the mountains of paperwork and checklists, and now we’re just waiting. It’s all out of our control. So, with this time of unknown length, I am creating.

I’ve thought about starting a blog for years. I actually have set up multiple blogs over the years as different ideas for things to write about have come to me. But inevitably, I’d start to write something and get stuck. I’d feel insecure (“Who am I to write about this?” “No one is going to read this” “No one is going to take me seriously”). Or I’d feel too mentally drained to continue thanks to grad school or seeing a full client load.

But now, it’s like life has gotten out of the way. I’ve thought about doing this for years, and I know I would regret it if I didn’t try. If I didn’t at least see where this could go. I don’t mean that I’m expecting to become a famous author and do book signings or go on tour. I don’t really think that’s the life for me. But I do think that what I’m doing right now, in this strange in-between time, is something I need to do.

I have things to say. I have ideas to share. I stuff to get out of my system and make available to whoever happens to read it. I’m not making any money doing this. I have no idea who reads it or whether it’s making any impact. But I feel myself becoming freer through the process.

I feel a deep passion within me that the things I’m sharing need to be said. I feel a longing to help people live more deeply, more fully, more richly, more authentically. I feel a longing to help ease the pangs of loneliness that plague our society today as we rush around in our busyness and saying we’re fine when we really have this deep need to be seen, heard, and loved for who we are.

I write for people who want more, but aren’t quite sure what they want. I write for people who know that what they’re doing isn’t quite fulfilling their needs, but aren’t sure what to do differently. I write to invite people to explore an idea a little more closely that they’ve heard of before but maybe never sat with long enough to fully understand it. I write for people on the brink of making a deeper change.

I’ve had a few clients who have said, in a slightly embarrassed way, “I feel really silly that this thing is bothering me as much as it is.” To those clients, I say “I am SO GLAD you said that.” Because it’s those LITTLE hints, those SUBTLE feelings, that invites us to such a deeper way of thinking about everything. I’ve loved it when a client has been on the edge of a really deep, meaningful discovery. I love it when I can see paradigms beginning to shift. I love it so incredibly much, and I want those paradigm shifts to be made available to everyone. I am not sure what my future is in terms of returning to clinical practice, but I feel in my soul that I want to share as much as I can share with whatever audience I can about how to live with greater freedom, richness, and depth.

So, I have more to create. So much more. I am thankful to you for reading. And I am excited to see where this all goes.