queer advice 46: transformative lesbionic experiences beyond what I could have imagined
do you live to work or work to live?
It’s Friday! Happy Halloweekend :) Today’s queer advice is about feeling jealous or prickly about other people’s success. I don’t get asked a lot of questions about work and money, so I really enjoyed mulling this one over. If you missed last week’s column, read it here. It’s about an emotional affair and how the label of “affair” doesn’t really matter, what matters is being married to someone who makes you feel bad.
Also, Gen Q starts up again in a few weeks. Gen Q is a show forged in hell and distributed by Gay Satan herself. I’ll be doing weekly recaps. I was promised advanced screeners by Showtime, so I’ll be able to post recaps within a day or two. If you want to review what happened last season, see my coverage here.
Thank you so much for reading an subscribing :) If you have a question for me, send it my way via Google form.
xoxo,
Maddy
The way I was raised, my purpose as a child was to ensure my own retirement. Get good grades, go to a good college, get a good job. I took on massive amounts of psychic damage to follow that path. After years of sexual harassment and racism in a male-dominated industry, I was making a lot of money. I was also spending every single second of the work day fantasizing about ending my life. I finally quit my job because I was about to get fired (constantly thinking about ending it all was interfering with my productivity).
My family was horrified. I used up my savings but I still couldn't make myself go back. For the past 6 years, I've scraped by on freelance gigs and a very part-time job in a different, lower-paying industry. I have become increasingly disabled in ways that are not understood by the American healthcare system and are not compatible with many standard workplace expectations.
I used to pride myself on never doing this, but during the pandemic, I started Googling everyone I've ever gone to school with, worked with, or dated. Somehow they are all doctors now. The ones who aren't doctors are company cofounders or senior-level whatevers. Even my younger brothers, who joined the same industry as I did and stayed, are making 15 - 20 times more money than I am now.
It is a comfort to me that in the time that I wasn't working very much, I was having transformative lesbionic experiences beyond what I could have imagined. I'm proud of the projects I've worked on outside of my failed career. But I still can't stop comparing myself to what could have been, what was supposed to happen. How do I stop measuring myself against people I don't even want to be like and let it go?
Disappointing my parents since before it was cool, 32
What if instead of judging yourself and classifying these feelings as BAD, you just sat with them for a while and asked them some questions?