Untangling the Big Knot, first steps

The thing I most want to write about and get out of my head is, of course, the thing I least want to disclose to the world. One of my Top Ten Internal Conflicts. Are there ten? I haven’t counted recently, but there are a few.

Enough stalling, here it is: I say that I want to find work I love, work that I am good at and that helps the world be a better place.

And part of me doesn’t want that.

Part of me wants to stay in what I know I can do and be safe. I will tell you the whole awful* truth of it.

For a very long time, I have had this dream:

I want to be a housewife.

*Except it’s not the whole truth, and it’s not awful.

Seriously. A huge part of me wants the extent of my responsibility to the world to end at my front door. Okay, maybe at the tree lawn, but I’m okay with my definition of housewife not including yard work (that’s Farmer Andy’s domain, don’tyaknow).

I want my job to be what I know I can handle: the laundry, cleaning, making us curtains and dinner. Maybe refinishing some furniture, rewiring some lamps, running errands, small plumbing and electricity jobs.

I used to have real jobs. I used to make good money. Within a few months of moving here to Ohio, I was earning the most I ever had, and uncannily my annual salary was the amount that years before I had written down as the amount that would mean I would never have to worry about money (hello, writing down things that come true).

And I felt good earning money. I hated what I had to do to earn it (not the work, just the environment in which I did it), and I was miserable, but I was earning money and that made me a success, at least by my family’s definition that’s been ingrained in me.

How can I be a success if I’m not earning money? If all I do is clean and cook and wash clothes? Especially when I don’t even use the clothesline because I hate hauling the wet stuff outside and having it be all stiff when it’s dry, and I don’t do the grocery shopping because the grocery store is just too much sensory input for me.

It’s a bit of a pickle, this war going on inside me. And no wonder that I haven’t done much of substance to move clearly in one direction or another.

Talking to a dear friend this morning online (hooray for IM) somehow made the idea of putting this conundrum out into the world seem less scary. Thanks, Lo (also, please take a moment with me to revel in the awesome that is Lo’s bio). I’m hoping that getting it out of my head here will help. We’ll see, right?

I have so much more to say on this topic, and as the title indicates, this issue of What am I doing with my life and why can’t I just get started on it already? is connected to so many other things. Money, identity, security, self-worth, relationships, what I think about living in a society that doesn’t value the work of sanely maintaining our homes. But my goal for today was just to break the ice, which I have now done. Takes bow.

Because today’s topic is especially tender, I have some requests rules for comment protocol today. Pep talks, advice, judgments and opinions, debating the definition of real work? Not useful, please don’t. Love and permission to not know the answers and witnessing? Totally fine, yes please. There’s a fine line between permission and pep talks, but I trust y’all will know it.