Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Intelligence vs. Identity

Sometimes, (Okay a lot of times) I feel I let people down. I'm not living up to my potential or I'm not doing all I could or I'm not succeeding in the ways that people think I should. These people I'm letting down are sometimes vague and sometimes quite specific. Sometimes it's my parents. My mother thinks I should be the President of the United States's speech writer (so long as it's not a Democratic President). My father is less specific in his desires for me, but he's constantly pushing me to have a "real" job (though, hell, that's sort of what I want most days!).

Sometimes the people are less specific. I'm letting down my high school teachers, my college professors, my grad school mentors (did I have many of those?). I'm not as far as I should be, not as successful as I should be, not as rich as I should be, not as famous as I should be.

I was told all through my childhood, adolescence, and subsequent young adulthood that I would go far, because I was "just so smart." Of course that signified I was meant for "great" things. Granted, no one ever specified or even hinted what these great things were (aside from my mother; she's always been very specific about me being a speech writer), so I was left to fumble my way through exploring what these great things might be. Hell, I went through about six majors before settling on something I really enjoyed studying. But what the hell are you supposed to do with a major in government and philosophy?

Grad school! But of course. Waste some more time trying to figure out what "great things" you're supposed to be doing while studying something you really and truly fell in love with. Alas, grad school is not very good about giving you direction for your passions. Even fewer grad schools are good at fostering your passions for a subject; rather they choose to bury that passion in bureaucracy, politics, and immaturity, though that is a rather long blog post for another occasion).

So what am I supposed to do with all of this alleged potential? Aspire to ruling the free world? Just contribute to those who would? Try for some great moneymaking job that means little to me? Fulfill my obligation to the world?

Ugh. The whole though bothers me: that I owe something to everyone else in the world because I have an undefinable potential. What does that even mean? Sure, I'm fairly intelligent; but so many I know are far more so than I am. Yes, I sometimes have a creative mind; but plenty of people have better ideas than I do. Okay, I have fairly widespread experience, connecting me with a number of people who do "big" and "important" things in the world.

But what does that have to do with me?

I have no aspiration to working in politics. I find the field disgusting with leeches and bloodsuckers. The mess offends most of my values and almost all of my sensibilities for fairness and justice. I don't care about making tons of money. Sure, I'd like to be comfortable and provide for my loved ones, but not by accepting just any position. I like the idea of making a difference in the world with my research, but I'm not about to compromise my self worth by slaving for an uninterested tenured professor for years just in the hopes that my articles reach a few dozen people.

Surprisingly, I've found significant enjoyment in what I'm doing. No, I haven't found a job yet. I'm acting as a great housewife. :)

I've spent the last week or so cleaning, organizing, and making my house a generally wonderful place for my husband to come home to.

I know! It's crazy. After all of my researching, studying, working, I have found my greatest fulfillment in the last several years in making a wonderful home for my family. I've written publishable articles, run a political campaign, and revamped a company's strategic program. I've been successful by many measures in most of those, but they've not given me the satisfaction that my latest job has.

I'm a housewife. And I sort of love that. I've found an identity in creating a home over the past year. Now as I'm about to celebrate a year of marriage with my best friend, I'm starting to become attached to my role as wife. I've learned how to cook; I've adapted recipes and seek out new ones all the time to have the best dinner for James when he comes home. I find satisfaction in a clean house; I feel better about my organized home than I did about several papers in grad school. And I love giving my husband somewhere happy, safe, and comfortable to come home to every day.

I still want a job of some sort, as I want to help contribute to savings before we have a kid (I want to buy a house and start college funds, and all that good stuff). But I don't think any of that will ever really define my success, as I thought I would. No matter what potential there might be for great success out there in the world, I don't owe anything to anyone else. I think I've found more identity in my current role as wife and homemaker than I have in any other role. And I'm great with that.