If I had to sum up 2010 in a few words, it would have to be: Personal failures, professional successes. Back in 2009 all I wanted was that 2010 be better than 2009...and yet it somehow ended up being worse.
2010 saw my personal relationships take a revolving door approach - people seemed to cycle in and/or out. Of note, of course, was my divorce after nearly two years of marriage. No matter how often people try to comfort you by saying half of all marriages end in divorce now - it never really takes the sting away. That was followed by a wild and torrid romance with a man I met, a man I can only describe as being simultaneously every girl's fantasy and mistake all rolled into one - but a man who taught me that the dissolution of my marriage didn't break me. Scattered throughout the year were timely exits by people I had considered to be among my 'best' friends and whose departures hurt me, or relieved me, or saddened me.
I've had time now to think things over, to lick my wounds, to step back and analyze what happened in the past 365 days.
I'm glad I tried the whole marriage thing. I was in love, I was optimistic, and it seem like the veritable world lay in wait for me and my husband. Reality set in quickly afterwards: love may soothe but it does not fix problems, optimism gave way to pragmatism, and the world wasn't waiting for us - it was leaving on the next train if we didn't hurry.
When the marriage went down the tubes, I had the very scary possibility that I would be *gasp* single the rest of my life. Horror upon horror, for a girl who has not been single since she was 14. I felt like I was regressing. At a time when my peers were getting married, having babies, buying real estate, working jobs - I was getting divorced, partying like a college freshman, buying designer shoes and still pulling all nighters in school. They were talking about nursery colours; I was talking about eye shadow palettes. They paid a mortgage; I paid a student line of credit. The older I got, the younger I became. In some circles, I was a failure because I couldn't keep my life and my marriage together, because my womb was barren and because I wasn't contributing to society.
Still, better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all...right?
There is such an unfair stigma attached to a person who reaches their mid-life who has never been married. What is wrong with them? The excuses for having a failed a marriage seem a lot more forgiving than for never having tied the knot. At least now when people judge me they can at least dismissively say, "Well...at least she's been married..."
It took me some time to figure out what I wanted after the break up. But I know now: I want a career. I want the six-figure pay cheque. I want the corner office. I want the well-tailored suits, the skyhigh heels, the leather briefcase. I want to have a valiant run at making partner in a law firm in Toronto - and even if I never get it, I want to know I tried my best. I know to achieve all this I will have to make sacrifices. And I know the first thing to be sacrificed will be a family.
I don't mean a literal blood-on-the-altar-chanting-to-the-dark-demons sacrifice. The truth is the legal profession isn't kind to female lawyers. We get pregnant, give birth and then we want maternity leave. All this takes us away from the office and takes us away from billable hours. We don't meet and exceed the yearly targets; we become trapped as mid-level associates. We quit and find other careers. It's not a hidden fact that half of all law school graduates are women but only 30% of lawyers in private practice are female.
I feel like the marriage odds are stacked against me. Female lawyers get married less often and divorced more often than their male counterparts. I also wonder how prevalent the 'success penalty' is these days. As Sylvia Hewlett once said, "the rule of thumb seems to be that the more successful the woman, the less likely it is that she will find a husband or bear a child. For men the reverse is true."
I may become another sorry statistic. If I happen to meet somebody who understands my particular ambitions, quirks and idiosyncrasies and who can love me in spite of it - sure, I'll re-evaluate things then. Maybe having children is in my future. But I refuse to dumb myself down to appease a man, I refuse to take a lower paying job to assuage his ego and I refuse to have children just to keep him.
There are compromises - and then there are compromises, which so fundamentally change you that you no longer recognize the person in the mirror. Not worth it for someone who can just as easily love you and leave you. Your successes you can always carry with you as it becomes a part of your history; love is ephemeral and can be dispelled as easily as fog. How else was it possible for me to be utterly and completely in love with two totally disparate men in one year?
The Artemis of 2010 probably would have sunk into a fit of depression at the thought that she would forever be known as a divorcee the rest of her life and have to celebrate her Christmasses alone. The Artemis of 2011 is actually ok with this strange new concept. She goes to restaurants alone, she works in cafes alone - she still hasn't quite worked up the courage to go see a movie alone - but she'll get there one day. Being alone does not mean being lonely; some of my loneliness nights occurred when I was married. I can now be unabashedly selfish; I can do whatever I want. I never understood how being alone could be so freeing until now.
I don't want to date because I see it largely as a waste of time; I don't have a personality or a lifestyle particularly well-suited for dating. I have so few free hours now and once I start working full time I'll have even less leisure time. Why would I want to spend it sitting across a table from a stranger, telling him where I went to school, what kind of music I listen to and defending my favorite movies? I would rather spend my precious time doing something that I find personally meaningful and being happy. I have more hobbies than time and more friends than Fridays. I'll never be bored; I'm incapable of boredom.
People will look down on me for this decision and for the decision to vigorously pursue my career. Haters gotta hate. I know some people measure worth in having a ring, a man, a kid, a car and a home - and I have none of the above. People will tell me that when I die, it's better to have "Artemis - Loving Wife and Mother" on my tombstone than "Artemis - She Made Partner and Then Billed A Whole Lot" (just kidding, I'd want my tombstone to say "Artemis - Superhero, Model and Rock Star") but what if I don't want to be a wife and mother? Why should somebody else's standards of success be thrust upon me? Why is there only one road to success?
Fact: there isn't.
While there was so much missing from my life, there was so much I did have that I cherished so dearly. Sure I don't have a husband or babies, but I have awesome family and friends. Sure I'm behind in many of the milestones of my peer groups but how many of them have 3 post-secondary degrees? How many of them work as a professional model? How many of them can binge drink on Fridays and then sleep in on Saturdays guilt free? Yeah - I don't have a house but that's because I live in Toronto where real estate is stupid expensive but in exchange for that, I get to live the lifestyle I want in the city I want.
For every decision I make, there are natural consequences which opens some doors and closes other. I can't lament the closed doors; for every decision my friends have made they've had to lose out on opportunities too. I can't have my cake and eat it too. I'm finally starting to piece together a life that makes me happy; after all, the only person I have to answer to on my death bed is me. We live with others but we die alone.
I am not asking people to subscribe to my way of life nor am I saying my way of life is the only way. I am just asking people not to pity me and to at least tolerate my decisions. It took me most of this year to realize that I can't compare my life or my choices to anybody else's and it is unfair of them to judge me by their own framework. Seems like such a simple concept in theory but in practice it is a lot harder to adhere to. It was probably the indirect source of a lot of the falling out I had with friends this year because I changed so much.
I will fully take the blame for some of the friendship implosions. Sometimes there are no take-backs; things are said and they can never be forgiven or forgotten. I am inherently cruel and shallow. I've lied; I've cheated; I've stolen. Sometimes a person has to take their lumps in order to learn their lessons. I've accepted this; more importantly, I'm going to be a better, kinder person from now on.
But I refuse to take the blame where the burden is not mine to bear. I refuse to feel bad for walking away from a bully and I refuse to waste my time and energy on some people. I have extended olive branches - nay, entire Grecian olive groves - to some, only to have it rejected. In a year where it has taken every ounce of willpower and energy to keep it together, I just can't deal with the people who would trample me underfoot and keep me under heel.
Of course 2010 wasn't all doom and gloom. I've had very satisfying successes.
I finally got good enough at surfing to start using a shortboard.
I had the opportunity to work with fantastic photographers, make up and hair people and stylists on a variety of projects, including the Cineplex/TIFF 2010 campaign, a photo in Sheridan College's magazine, an upcoming Home Depot campaign (Spring 2011) and a look book for clothing boutique.
I started my legal career at a small tax law firm; it got my feet wet and reinforced the idea that this is what I want to do. I continued with my legal education. I secured an articling position at an exciting and growing law firm.
I had the best regular season record in my fantasy football league (10-3); I am learning the game beyond just a mere passing fancy and have started studying playbooks.
I continued to be involved in projects I am passionate about, including small animal rescue.
I did this all while falling apart at the seams, with a smile plastered on my face. As Buffy Summers once said, "I'm going through the motions / Walking through the part...."; I was on automatic pilot for a large part of the summer of 2010 and most of the fall. I'm only starting to wake from my self-induced coma now.
Will I continue to struggle with my doubts and insecurities into 2011? Yes, of course. I'll always feel pressured to live the life that others envision for me. I'll always want to please people. But 2011 is going to be the year where I please myself first and consequences be damned. I'll figure that stuff out for 2012.
