Freedom of Choice

Over the weekend, I was thinking a lot about the choices I've made thus far:

1. I'm married.
2. I live in San Diego.
3. I work with books.
4. I go to church.
5. I voted for and am a proud supporter of Obama.
6. Et cetera.

But, it occurred to me recently that a big reason why I've been so bitter and angry about the layoff that happened almost one year ago is because I feel like I wasn't given a choice. My thinking was very circular: "This happened to me; I had no control; I'm a victim of corporate greed--(blah blah blah)--therefore my life is worse for it."


However, I've had a few job opportunities come to light--none of which have worked out. But effectively, I can't help but feel like I'm choosing to stay where I am. And ironically, there's a lot of comfort and freedom in that. Knowing that there are opportunities available--not great opportunities, but opportunities nonetheless--is really encouraging. I guess you could say that as a result, I feel less trapped.

I still feel, though, that I'm at kind of a loss when it comes to figuring out what I want to do with the rest of my days. I've always wanted to be a mother--but I don't want to be one right now. I've always wanted to be an actress--but that seems entirely unreasonable, and I don't necessarily want to put my kids through it. It's sad, but, in terms of real life goals, I'm entirely confused about where to take my life next.

Last night some friends and I were talking about the fact that I have a tender heart. And that I willingly seem to enter into people's pain (or joy) on a profound level. In a word: I'm empathetic. If I'm honest with myself, I really love people and could talk about relationships until I'm blue in the face. But... what kind of career does this lend itself to? It's not like I can be a professional friend.

I guess I'm just going to have to sit with this for a little while.