Wednesday, April 23, 2014

All The Catholic Guilt, None of the Theology...

Here we are, like I promised, same title as planned, and for the most part the same general idea. But also more. I think. This is going to be slightly more narcissistic than normal, and either really long winded or much shorter than I expected. (This is MY blog about MY life, how is this not an act of narcissism? Exactly.)

Since I originally set out to write this I've read other thoughts, by other people that have helped me realize how far I still have to go. My guilt complex (which I'm about to go into great detail about) has succeeded in trapping me into either doing things I don't want to, or most recently preventing me from going after the things I want.


5 years ago I became a Massage Therapist, and because one of my lame super powers is the ability to snag any job I ever interview for, I very quickly landed a $25/massage $12/non-massage hour job where I easily took home approximately $600 a week. Not at all shabby for a gal just out of school. Before I left there due to my pregnancy from hell (not an exaggeration, it was awful), I had become the Billing Manager, the Receptionist, the Lead Therapist, and the Janitor. When my boss went on vacation he trusted me with a key to the place to still see clients. It was awesome.

I've had two real clear consistant wants out of my life: to be a mother and to own my own business. The details involved with them both have changed and sometimes have been totally blurry, but the bare bones has always been the same.

After my son was born I was given an opportunity to go out on my own and start my own official business in a shared office space in Old Town. With nothing but my table and a couple days off from my "real" jobs (yes, plural) I dove in. I was sharing my room with a girl that did facials so for starters we offered $100 for both an hour massage and a facial. Trickle, trickle it started. We were next to a bar, and there was about 10 other people working in the building so I printed off some cards from Vista Print and told people I usually charged $60 an hour but since I was new to the neighborhood I could give them a one time try at $25. Boom. More clients. Then I had the conversation that changed everything for me.

One of the girls in the building ran a special through a website that no longer exists and they pre-sold her services then wrote her a check for $400. $400!!! That's a lot of money all at once for a start up with no working capital to speak of. Hell, back then I didn't know what working capital meant. I made $6,000. Then another $4,000. I went from bumkin business owner to needing more space and helpers. I went from 4 full time jobs plus being a mom to being a mom with one full time job.

Pretty awesome yeah? Where's the guilt? Right here. In my industry there are hundreds of MTs getting ripped of and under paid/undervalued by not just jerk bosses who see us as instruments for their success, but by consumers who don't think we're worth our full price. They jump from office to office looking for the cheapest deal instead of the best individual provider for them. They want 5 star service at a half star price. I know that I'm not the only one responsible for the bargain hunting mentality in my industry, but I feel strong pangs of guilt whenever this subject comes up since I know my naivety and eagerness played a huge part in how the market looks for my industry in my city area.

I have a kid sister. Well. I have a lot more than that, but for this example I'm only going to be talking about two of my sisters. We had a rough time growing up in the Cross house, and I was given the burden of my younger sisters' care before elementary school ended. There's no nice way to say this, but I thought I could only save one of them so I poured all my energy into keeping the baby sister safe. I in no means ignored our other sister, but we were like fire and ice and she really only wanted basic care from me. My entire life's purpose was giving our baby sister the best life imaginable, and I gave up countless things to make sure she was well. She lived with me during summer breaks and weekends, and even her entire junior year of high school. Making sure she had every opportunity I never did was the most important thing to me. I got her out of the bad neighborhood, and gave her the chance to be around good, solid, non-stereotype embracing people. When she started smoking like me it broke my heart a little. When our other sister started too I felt the first twinges of fauilure. They both are grown and have chosen to walk down the familar paths of our childhood, bad boys, worse decisions, etc.
I have no clue where exactly I failed them, but when I see their lives it tears me up and I just feel like I should have failure stamped on my forehead.

I also feel partially responsible for making bright hair more accepted in the work place, but I don't feel guilty for that, just slightly more prideful than I have actually earned. ;)

This is pretty heavy shiz isn't it? Sorry. It feels kinda nice to unburden myself of my irrational levels of guilt, and to be able to recognize the errors in my thoughts.

So besides realizing I truly am not the mother of the world I've come to this conclusion: It's not all my fault. Sure, there are some cut and dry things I am guilty of, but when it comes down to it, there is a lot of things not my fault and not my job to care about. At some point I have to stop worrying about everyone around me and start paying attention to myself. I can't keep basing my decisions on others, I need to be able to do things I want to do without feeling guilty for having fun. I haven't had the most fun life, but at this point in the game its my own damn fault, and I need to chase after it before I end up guilting myself.

1 comment:

  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.


A Little Blasphemy as a Literal (and Figurative) Sign of Progress

 Hello there, it’s been a while, and in true returning from ghosting fashion, I am here to either share something vapid and meaningless, or ...