Halloween in Madison – 34,000+ celebrate.
In other news, I’m starting a new photo series on the blog. Enjoy!
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Author: Rebecca Healy
My goal is to help you find meaningful work, enjoy the heck out of it, and earn more money.
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Are you ready for success?
Success is like a game of dominoes. Don’t go after it unless you’re ready, because it tends to fall into place all at once.
This post is a tribute to Devin Reams, five.sentenc.es, and to Hercules, who only reads the highlighted parts of my blog.
Domino effect.
This post is an opening argument to the question, “Do women need men and/or children in order to be fulfilled?” Check out the opposing viewpoint from Justin Sanders here. This post was also published at Damsels in Success.
Update: This post was also published at Huffington Post.
Women need men. Just not like we used to.
While career guru Penelope Trunk insists that we will find deeper fulfillment from relationships over work, others like Hannah Seligson wonder why we can’t talk about “young women and careers without talking about the hunt for a husband?”
Generation Y women don’t relate to either. We don’t live container lives, with work and family and play muffled under air-tight lids. Our life bleeds together, and instead of a singular goal of family or career, we lead our lives as a continuum, family and career ebbing and flowing.
The reality of young women’s lives today is that we want it all, despite the warnings. While coming of age during 9/11 reinforced that family is deeply important to us, we were also raised to believe we could do and be anything, especially equal to men professionally.
It’s not about prioritizing one over the other, nor is there a single answer that works for everyone; there are extremes at either end. What remains consistent in women, however, is their sense of increasing independence.
Whether we check off men, children, career, or all of the above, the fact is that we have a choice, and what fulfills and limits us is not created by society and media, but increasingly our own desires.
As a result, our roles are changing. Women are becoming the leaders, and men the supporters. Even in relationships where children are the priority, and the woman chooses or is able to stay at home, women take on the dominant role, commanding a deeper respect than any time in history.
Many view the shifting roles as threatening the very basis of our biology. But it isn’t. It is simply uprooting the traditional western viewpoint.
Indeed, while spouses and children still rank as a source of fulfillment for women above careers, one’s personal fulfillment is increasingly not just augmented by, but necessitated by professional fulfillment as well.
Bored with motherhood and marriage, we savor the challenge of work. Michelle Obama said in a recent interview, “I love losing myself in a set of problems that have nothing to do with my husband and children. Once you’ve tasted that, it’s hard to walk away.”
Women don’t need men or children for fulfillment. They might get on okay with a cat, or their career, or another woman. But really, Generation Y doesn’t need much. We’ve been coddled and spoiled, and have long surpassed what we might need, and are instead creating what we want.
And what we want is to define a new kind of woman, a “compassionate alpha.”
The Generation Y woman has leadership and strength, and promotes community and empathy. We don’t dismiss motherhood, but embrace our strengths and use those to change the workplace, reaping from it a greater sense of fulfillment than ever before.
It is not a coincidence that at a time when power-hungry hierarchies are being broken down, women are leading and infiltrating the workplace. It is our skills and talents that have created such an influential shift.
Generation Y women are high-achievers, shrewd, well-dressed, and possess an emotional intelligence that far surpasses our male counterparts. We don’t rule by insecurities or fear, but by knowing ourselves well, and seeking connection with others.
In short, we’re women. We strive to be who we are, in our sexual identities, and in how we construct our personal and professional lives. We acknowledge our own complexities.
Our personal and professional lives are blurred more than ever before, and a woman’s strength in today’s society is the fact that we are true to ourselves — more so than any other generation — because past generations fought for our right to do so.
Ruthlessly beautiful.
This post is part of Blog Action Day. I do not have any advertising on this site, so I cannot donate the revenue. Instead, I am donating .25 for every subscriber I have today and splitting the donation between my favorite online environmental charity and my favorite local environmental charity.
1. Ditch the car. I know a guy who drives a couple blocks from his condo to the bars. It’s one of those things that gets under my skin and makes me go crazy. The single best thing you can do to help the environment is to not own a car. Instead of driving, you can walk (gasp!), ride the bus, or carpool and carshare.
At my last job, I rode the bus to work every day. Now, my workplace is only a three minute walk away (the coffee shop and my cubicle both), and I actually miss the bus. There’s something relaxing in having someone else serve you, drive you, and being able to people watch, look out the window, read, listen to music. It’s a good way to start the day.
2. Live in a trendy location. If you live downtown, you’re probably doing this already. Living downtown in a city usually means that you are living in a small footprint . My apartment is 450 square feet and my new condo is 650 square feet. A trendy location is also close to farmers markets, the grocery store, bars, restaurants, coffee shops, parks, bookstores, libraries, fitness clubs, and shopping! I.e., the places that have a good walkabilty score. My walk score is 97 out of 100. That’s good for your health and good for the environment.
It’s easy not to own a car when you live in such a great location. It also means that you’ll always be only steps away from the best things happening on any given day. You will pay more in rent for living in such a location, but with no car costs (up keep, gas, insurance, parking costs, etc.), choosing the right neighborhood will ultimately be cheaper.
3. Eat yummy food. No chain restaurants. Keep it local. Avoid food that you don’t know where it came from. And for goodness sakes, please stop going to Starbucks. Here in Madison, there is a Starbucks on both ends of State St. It’s ridiculous. You probably live where you do for a reason. Why go somewhere that is the same everywhere across the world? Celebrate the uniqueness of where you live and who you are. Of course, even local restaurants don’t always have local food, but just try your best. When you eat food that is local, it tastes better and is better for you. And you shouldn’t settle for anything less to take care of your body.
Being good to the environment is not about living with less. It’s about living with more. Living better. It’s about quality over quantity. And it’s definitely the Modite way to go.
Greener pastures.
On Saturday afternoon, I bound out of my apartment, anxious to press the reset button. A few seconds later, I inhale the smell of rubber and metal and new carpet as I walk into the gym next door.
I go to my usual spot, the corner on the second floor where there are large views of the parking lot across the street and the Capitol building up the road. There are new elliptical machines today, and I stop short.
I remember the delivery truck a few days ago now, outside my building, the shape of the logo, the name lost in my memory. I was walking home in high heels when I saw it, and the arches of my feet hurt from the recollection.
The new machines are much taller and I step onto one carefully. I press the “Start” button. Nothing happens. I press it again, three, four times. Nothing. I look around me. Everyone else is running and moving and sweating. I push the “Start” button on another machine. No better. I come back to my machine, push all of the buttons, push them sequentially over and over, as if the machine will magically wake up to my prodding. Nothing. Finally, I think to move my feet and the machine lights up with a message. I smile a little.
I’ve come in the middle of the Badger football game, and the score hasn’t changed since I left my apartment. I’m acutely aware that I am watching a dead man walking as the Badgers move across the field, quietly falling from their pedestal.
I notice there are only two guys in the room now. One is on the elliptical two machines over. The other is behind me, diagonally, pounding on a treadmill. They’re both wearing Badger red. The color bounces in and out of the corner of my vision.
After a few minutes my whole body is screaming for me to stop after staying up so late the night before. I want to crawl back into bed, so I push harder, fighting myself. Fighting the Badger’s losing score. I look past the television and out the window. It is cloudy out. Groups of people walk by below. I start to push harder and harder so that there are moments where I am only thinking of my body moving past its limits, where I am only thinking about breathing and nothing else.
After awhile I go into the aerobics room, grab a mat, and sit in front of the huge wall of mirrors, looking at my sweaty face without makeup. My cheeks are flushed the color of raspberries, and I bend my head down towards my knee, watching myself in the mirror. There is a small window in this room that looks onto the charcoal-colored bricks of the building next door, and a triangle of gray sky. I look at it from upside down, and wish it were sunny outside.
I rotate onto my back and watch the fan above me, turning slowly, the emblem “Big Ass Fans” written in large white block letters in the center. I wonder how “Big Ass Fans” exists in today’s world without a swarm of offended protesters. A woman is outside of the room and she is taking longer than necessary to put on a black hood, a pair of black gloves. I watch her in the mirror and don’t allow myself to switch positions until she leaves.
It is quiet, and my shirt is sticking to my back. I am done stretching, and sit on the mat just staring at myself. I wonder if there are cameras behind these mirrors, or if it is a two way mirror, someone watching me watch myself. I stand up, pick up my towel, press next on my iPod. I feel my legs and shoulders preparing to ache later on in the day.
I walk out of the building. I feel good. Like nothing can go wrong again. The kind of good that only comes when you push against yourself, and there’s you and no one else, and you win.
Healthy habit.
I’ve been in my new job for almost two months now, and there’s something I’ve noticed on the face of the hundreds of young professionals I’ve encountered.
Exhaustion. Our generation is tired. Really tired. Me too.
One of my favorite young professionals is a member of our Entrepreneurial Committee. He works for a Fortune 500 company here in Madison by day, and by night and by weekend, he runs two companies that he founded. Two. He calls it straddling. A leg in the corporate world, a leg in the entrepreneurial dream. His eyes and cheeks and mouth though, they are suffocating in exhaustion. The guy needs a pillow. Seriously. He needs to get some sleep.
The thing is, whenever I see him, I feel energized. He makes me smile because he comes to the meetings. He has great ideas. He contributes. He’s one of the last to leave. He’s insanely passionate. And I know he doesn’t sleep. I know he works ridiculously hard. I also know he’s going to be incredibly successful.
I’m not advocating a no-sleep schedule. I personally need seven hours of sleep. Exactly. If I go to bed at 11:58 pm, my alarm is set for 6:58 am. Exactly. But really, I’m not advocating it, because it’s already happening. For better or for worse, Generation Y is working with our hearts on our sleeves, straddling our work and our lives, straddling our dreams and our reality.
The excitement on the line is palpable. It’s everywhere. The exhaustion is merely a comma in the sentence of changing the world. It’s exhaustion of the status quo. It’s working hard, playing hard. It’s our generation pushing all together in one direction and only moving an inch. A mere inch. But gosh darn it all, we moved that inch forward. And that’s something to celebrate.
At my last job, I worked with some of the top business people in Madison, the CEOs and presidents, and movers and shakers. They inspired me. Now, I work with the next generation of CEOs and presidents, and movers and shakers. Except, we’re already doing it.
We’re already leading, changing, doing. We’ve been moving and shaking since we put one foot in front of the other for the first time. It’s something more than inspiration. It’s exuberance.
I invite the naysayers to come and spend time with the young leaders in my community and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that the resilience and passion and willingness to do whatever it takes, that the gut-wrenching work of pushing forward against all odds, is not occurring every day, every hour, in the lives of these young professionals. Because I promise it is. We are laid off, or dumped, or abused, or hate our jobs, or are involved in shootings, war, or tragedy, and still we show up. We have great ideas. We contribute. We’re the last to leave. We’re insanely passionate.
That’s the Generation Y work ethic. That’s happiness raw and exposed. That’s what it means to be part of this generation.
Work it, homie.
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All better now
My blog is back up! For those of you who didn’t get to read the most recent post on Friday, it’s anxiously awaiting your eyes here:
Life as a Gen Y Leader – Week six
For those of you who have read it already, you’ll notice it’s a lot shorter than the original post. That’s because I like to edit. And while I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules in blogging world, I like to edit, and it’s my blog. Something I learned fairly quickly to mean that it’s actually everyone’s blog. That’s why I like blogging. The connection between me and you. It’s like a novel in real-time, a few pages written each week, and you know the ending just as well as I do. And let’s face it. My dream is to one day be featured on Oprah’s Book Club.
Moditely yours.
I went out on a date last night. A real date. A lot of the time I go out for dinner or drinks, and the guy thinks it’s a date, but it’s really not, and I’ve yet to figure out how to handle those situations gracefully. I usually smile the smile that says you’re quite lovely and nice, but I don’t think so bud. Usually, they get it. I think.
But last night was a date. I know it was, because we discussed it beforehand. As a Gen Y leader, that’s what you have to do. Your life is in the spotlight, much more, and in some ways, much less, than I would have ever imagined.
As such, dating is a dangerous ingredient to add to the work/life blender. Friends and work and business associates and drinks and family all mix quite nicely. But the moment dating comes into the mix, people get all crazy. Seriously. Many in our generation would prefer not to even talk about it. A foreign concept to me because that’s essentially all my best friend Belle and I discuss.
Belle and I also talk about our sisters and our jobs. We talk about how her mother has breast cancer. Again. We talk about our goals, and dreams, and what to wear on Friday night. But mostly we talk about our respective relationships. Because uh, it’s not like they doesn’t exist, and I have trouble ignoring things that are so basic and integral to our life.
Big Brother likes to keep such things hush-hush, and recommends that I don’t date anyone in my organization. An odd bit of advice, because our membership is made up of young professionals in Madison, and the ones that aren’t part of my organization, well, it’s my job to recruit them. That pretty much cuts out, oh, I don’t know, every good-looking young bachelor in the city. Every young, single, and eligible man in Madison is off-limits. It’s an impossible situation.
So, I went out on a date last night, and he happened to be a member of my organization, and when I tried to explain my hesitance with this fact, he just laughed, like “Is this really what keeps you up at night? You are so lame.” And I laughed back nervously, like “Yes, cute young professional bachelor, I am totally lame. You’re absolutely right.”
I guess I tend to take work too seriously at times. I work hard. It doesn’t stop. From the moment I wake up, I am working, until the moment I close my eyes in bed. And because I can work from the coffee shop, home or at the bar, and not just in my cubicle sans windows, I do. Which means when it is 8:24 pm, I’m usually working. And when it’s 10:02 am, I am working. And when it’s 3:35 am in the morning, well, I am sleeping, but I am working then too. Really. I have productive dreams.
Honestly though, I don’t know how other people do it, and I am beginning to think that I must have some serious health issue because I am not the Energizer bunny of Generation Y. A disappointment that is greatest to myself, because I look good in pink.
So, I am trying my best, which seems to be working out, mostly because your best has to be good enough, and I love myself enough to realize that my best is really quite amazing.
Work/life blur.
Hercules and I recently visited Janet, the Psychic. The Psychic Gallery has bright red carpets, a strange mix of leather couches and plastic lawn chairs, and the fee is $35 to get your palm read. She also offers tarot card readings and full on what-is-your-future readings sans the crystal ball. The entire atmosphere screams rip-off, and it is located a short block from the State Capitol. Only in Madison.
No matter. It was just the entertainment Hercules and I were looking for on a rainy afternoon.
I didn’t want my palm read, but humored Hercules inside. After Janet the Psychic finished a surprisingly accurate reading of Hercules, and told us, in detail, about the zit beneath her eyebrow, Hercules decided that I should get my palm read too. “I’ll pay for it,” he insisted.
I shrugged my shoulders and was about to outstretch my palm when Janet the Psychic proclaimed she wouldn’t read my palm that day. I should come back a different day, she said, and not with Hercules. Yeah. Okay. That’s not shady at all.
We changed the subject, and then just as Hercules and I were about to leave, Janet the Psychic insisted, “But I do want to tell you something before you go. Free of charge. Not with him in the room, though.” Hercules left obediently, and Janet spoke.
And I don’t know if it was what she said, or how she said it, or the sudden coldness in the room that gave me goosebumps, but I felt the devil himself had just ripped my heart out of my chest.
How could this woman who had known me less than twenty minutes hit on the exact thing that I tried to ignore daily with the right friends and the right clothes and the right job?
I didn’t say anything back to her, nodding only slightly. She continued on, speaking of things that I knew, but never discussed. And how I needed to change all of it. Quickly.
I suppose she could have said those things to anyone and it would have been true, but would it have been the same gut-wrenching experience for others?
Because the thing about fear, and that’s really all she was talking about, is that it takes on a life of its own and you call it bad, because that’s what it is, but you make it good and that eats up your heart. I’ll tell you. It takes big monstrous bites of your heart and chews it like the trucker chews on the grizzle in his sausage-bacon-egg biscuit.
And Janet the Psychic saw through that. In twenty minutes. And perhaps just as quickly, I forgot about what she said, refusing to speak of it to Hercules, or anyone else. Life went on. Because I’m too busy and too proud to live in fear. So I thought.
Then this Sunday afternoon, my sister who is visiting from England, and I were walking down State Street. We are completely different; she is curvaceous where I am not, and bohemian where I am refined. We walked with the sun beating the sweat onto our arms, and in other spots that women shouldn’t sweat in, and my sister exclaimed:
“Oh, tarot card readings! Let’s do that,” pointing at a sign describing another psychic on State Street. Another one. Because one psychic isn’t enough in Madison.
And wouldn’t you know. The second psychic said the exact same thing as the first. Like, do they all talk to each other or something? Right.
So I paid a little more attention this time. Because I don’t believe in psychics, but I get it when life is slapping you in the face. A wall in front of the yellow brick road only appears because you’re ready to find a way through. Which is kind of exciting. To overcome challenges, that is. Like when my mother taught me how to balance the checkbook when I was young, and how it still gives me great pleasure to figure out where the last .03 comes from to reconcile the two sides. So, I’m announcing that I get it. Life can get off my back. And I’m a huge dork. I know.
See, leaders aren’t leaders because they show no emotion and are stoic and sly. It’s because they overcome their challenges, and inspire others to do the same. You have to know yourself, what your issues are, and work to make yourself and the world a better place.
That’s the journey, and it’s quite beautiful when you think about it. When you think about how great you are to have overcome what you have, to have accomplished what you have, to be so uniquely and utterly you. To be able to thrive off of challenge. Challenges are, in fact, opportunities, and the road is ripe with them. A fact that makes me quite happy, and should make you quite happy as well.
Crystal ball, bro.
Big Brother and I talked a couple weeks ago perched atop Bascom Hill, the steepest hill in Madison, and I wore my steepest heels. The sun was bright with the resigned smile it holds between summer and fall, and I held on to the edge of my wrap dress, dangerously flirting with the wind. Big Brother stood simply, calmly.
“I make you nervous, don’t I?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. My weight shifted from one heel to the other. “I feel like you don’t trust me yet.”
“No. I trust you. I have no reason not to trust you,” he said.
I nodded and he nodded and we looked at each other, smiling. When Big Brother smiles, you smile too, like a game of telephone, passing the message on. It’s charisma and it’s indefinable.
Big Brother and I are still figuring each other out. We’re figuring out the trust thing, and the loyalty thing. We’re building it. Because you can’t just say “trust me,” and believe everything will work out. That’s a movie ending, not a business decision. Trust has to be earned. Loyalty has to be created.
Big Brother knows this. He doesn’t use his success to shepherd me into trusting him. He expects that I’ll earn his trust and he’ll earn mine.
Trust and loyalty are big deals when you’re in a position of leadership, because everyone wants to be your friend for specific reasons. And everyone else doesn’t like you, for much of the same reasons.
“Don’t take it personally,” Big Brother told me as we sat across from each other after work. A glass of water sat in rings of sweat in front of me.
“Okay,” I said, running my fingertips along the table and through the water. I was thinking about the meeting I had in an hour, because after work is never really after work anymore.
“No. Look at me in the eyes,” he said. I looked up, amused. He was not amused. “Do you understand, truly? Don’t take it personally.”
“Okay,” I said. I nodded, looking directly at him, holding his gaze until he was nodding back, satisfied that I understood.
Big Brother and I are still figuring each other out. Because real trust and real loyalty takes time. These exchanges put another stone in place. Information is the foundation. Honesty is the mortar holding it together. There is no other way if you want to build a business relationship that can stand the cycle of the game.
There is no happy ending. The game cycle is a constant push and pull of what you build, and what you tear down.
Measured excitement.
The handsome guy to the left is Sam Davidson, the co-founder and president of CoolPeopleCare, Inc.
Sam offers an incredibly unique and talented perspective to the Follow the Leader series:
“Telling the stories that need telling in order to motivate others to change the things that need changing, Sam is a social entrepreneur who believes in the power of local communities. He has spoken and written on the power of the Internet to change the world for the better, and specializes in studying new and emerging trends within the nonprofit sector, especially as they relate to younger generations. His first book, “New Day Revolution: How to Save the World in 24 Hours” will be available in October.
He is married to Lynnette and both of them currently live in Nashville, Tennessee. The two don’t have any children, but when they do, they hope they will grow up in a world free from hate and fear, where ideas and creativity are valued.”
What should we spend our time on? What shouldn’t we spend our time on?
Developing relationships is vital for professional or personal success. Sometimes, these relationships will be short and may not have much depth, but it could be just the connection you need to get ahead. At other times, these relationships will be long lasting and full of meaning. I think it’s important to never turn down an invitation to meet someone, to grab coffee or have lunch. Even if it seems from the initial request that nothing can develop, I’ve seen great ideas come out of chance meetings.
(click twice to enlarge and sharpen Sams’ calendar for this week)
How do you get it all done?
I manage my to-do list with my Inbox. It stays in the Inbox until I take care of it (‘it’ being replying to an email, setting up a meeting, writing a 5 Minutes of Caring piece). Also, I wake up at 5 AM. Most people cringe at that. But, I love what I do, so getting up at 5, getting online for 90 minutes (to read news, blogs, and email) and then going for a jog allows me to do more by 8 AM than most folks get done by lunch. There’s a huge advantage to that.
What does balance mean to you?
Balance is all about prioritizing. Naturally, our priorities change over the years. But, if you can figure out a few things early on that are important, it will help you decide what’s worth doing and what can wait. A lot of times, people spend a lot of time on things that aren’t that important, and they probably know this. I think life is much too short to be caught doing lots of things you don’t want to.
How many hours do you work a week?
My schedule is rarely (never) 9-to-5. I wake up early, meet folks for lunch, write at night sometimes, think about stuff when I’m driving, you name it. Recently, I’ve begun to stay off the computer a lot on the weekends. I once used the weekend to catch up on stuff. Now, I figure out on Friday what can wait until Monday. This way, I can spend the weekend lying on my couch watching what I DVR’d during the week. But, my Blackberry is always nearby so I can at least read emails, even if I don’t reply until Monday.
How do you think we can encourage young leaders?
Young people today have grown up and are coming of age at a time when access and creation are standard parts of their lives. Their parents were passive receivers of media and entertainment. Today’s YPs are active producers, making videos, writing blogs, and starting businesses, and then sharing all of this with anyone and everyone. I’ve found that young people are most engaged when they’re able to create something and have the necessary access to the tools required to do so. I don’t feel that’s an incredibly revolutionary thing, but so few businesses realize this.
How much time do you devote to blogging and promoting your blog?
I love to write, but only when I know I’ve got something good. I’ve been blogging on my personal site for nearly 4 years now, and it’s changed from blogging mainly about religious issues to anything personal to covering the nonprofit world. Because I write so much for CoolPeopleCare, I don’t blog everyday. But, I have enjoyed it more by waiting until I’ve got something particularly worthy of my time.
Early Riser.
Ryan Paugh’s recent thoughts on relationships and career are downright blasphemous. I state my opinion with the utmost respect for Paugh. We’re friends. But I disagree with him.
Paugh views long-term relationships and marriage as restrictions for young talent. Young leaders, he argues, are limiting themselves by searching for responsibility they don’t need yet.
Restrictions are what life is about. You should never throw away such opportunities, but embrace what limits you.
I studied design in college and found that given the chance to design anything at all in the whole wide world, the canvas will remain blank. Told to design something with a right angle, or without connecting any lines, or including three circles and your mind will turn on. Constraints make you creative. Creativity breeds success.
I had lunch today with a young twenty-something leader in marketing and public relations who was doing just that. We talked about his future plans and I asked if he would ever consider leaving Madison.
“I’d like to leave, but my wife wants to stay here and her family lives here as well, so I think we will stay,” he replied.
It’s a compromise for him to stay. That was clear. But he will go far because he does not see that as a boundary. Despite limitations, he is successful and is creating change.
Paugh, however, argues that “leaders who are emotionally committed to another person typically can’t hack it.” Ridiculous. The very definition of leadership is being emotionally available to others. Life is about helping other people. A relationship is the sincerest form of such sentiments. Even Oprah has Steadman.
Much of the confusion has to do with the fact that changing the world is not the rainbows and teddy bears we imagine in our heads. It’s dirty grotesque work. It is work that is often sleazy and hard and tiring. Paugh romanticizes that it’s something different entirely.
He talks about relaxing with his friends watching football one weekend and trips to Cape Cod the next – things that just wouldn’t be possible with the ball and chain. The message seems to be that you can’t have a life, and be in a relationship, and change the world all at the same time. “Imagine your potential for greatness if you choose to take a rain-check on the nuptials,” Paugh urges. The reality is that as a leader, you support others, and at the end of the day, you need someone to support you.
For the record, I’m single. I’ve been a serial monogamist and I’ve been a serial dater. I’m a hopeless romantic, but I have no desire to get married and start popping out babies anytime soon.
And yet, as a newly minted Gen-Y leader, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I had someone to come home to, someone that would understand and support and be there for me. Someone to share the success. It’s hard to be a leader and not have personal support, even with wonderful friends and family.
It is, of course, a personal choice to choose a family or choose a career. Neither is right. On one side, the young and married stand, happiness glazed on their faces, what ifs tattooed in their eyes. On the other side the young and powerful march forward, heads turned backward, looking at what they’ve left behind.
The happy medium between the two consists of the very narcissism Paugh uses to substantiate his argument. You see, part of being independent, part of truly loving yourself, is that you can love another, and perhaps more importantly, that you can allow yourself to be loved in return. It’s the latter that’s hard. But when you can do that, that’s when you can really start to change the world. Because you understand something so powerful, that it can’t be put into words.