Guest Post: Not Just About Me

Lauren and I originally connected through our love of teaching, even in spite of her giving it up to pursue a career in the nonprofit sector. She became a writer for Equality 101, and after that, we were fortunate to meet in person at a Chicago Feminist event. Since our meeting about a year ago, Lauren has been incredibly supportive of my writing, and we’ve commiserated about the future of feminism, equitable relationships, not living in the city – you name it – on many occasions. I’m glad to have met her, and I’m so glad she decided to contribute a guest post this week. As much as you want to be an independent woman as a married feminist, it is sometimes a good reminder to read about how it’s not all about you anymore, and that’s what Lauren has to offer us today.

I took a look at the job description.  Despite the fact that I was home by myself, I audibly gasped.  I might have even squealed a little bit.  It was perfect.  It was the exact job I wanted, working for the exact non-profit I wanted.  I hurriedly read the rest of the posting, thinking about all the ways I’d tweak my resume and what I’d say in my cover letter.

There was just one minor problem.  The job was in Charlotte, North Carolina.

When I got married, I chose to begin a life pursuing our dreams, not just my own.  The days of wildly applying to jobs, regardless of location, are long gone.  So instead of editing my resume, I prepared for a long talk with my husband about whether or not this dream could be possible.

We weighed the pros and cons.  He is a teacher, and just secured his tenure status.  Moving would mean not only giving that up, but searching for a job in a difficult market.  If he was unable to find a job, it’s unlikely that we could live comfortably on just the non-profit salary that I’d make.  It would also mean trying to get our house ready to sell and selling it.

One of the most important things I considered was that my husband already has his dream job.  I am confident that he will teach in the same school until he retires, not because he has tenure, but because it is a perfect fit for him.  The climate and culture of the school suit his personality, he’s challenged to grow professionally, and has the support he needs to do it.

While the North Carolina job seemed to be my dream job, there was no guarantee.  If I was only worried about myself, I’d take the gamble.  But gambling my partner’s dream job for the possibility of my own seemed reckless and selfish to me.  I know that if the situation were reversed, he would consider my needs and happiness in his decision as well.

How do I know?  He spoke to some acquaintances in his field in North Carolina, trying to get a feel for the job market and sustainability there, without me even asking him to do it.  He invested himself in trying to see if there was a way we could make it work.  We even discussed living in separate states temporarily so that I could take a stab at it.

In the end, I applied for the job but requested to work remotely.  When I read the e-mail telling me that I was qualified, but they couldn’t accept someone who wasn’t in Charlotte or willing to move, I expected to feel disappointed.  Instead, I felt only assurance that I had made the right decision.

Several friends have asked how I could place limitations on myself and my career in this way.  To me, the answer is simple: it’s not just about me anymore.

Lauren Marie is a feminist, triathlete, and fierce supporter of teachers and education. She blogs at Forward is a Pace.

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