Dear Wendy,
I have a huge decision to make. I am happily married to the romantic man of my dreams, and we just bought and fixed up our cottage in paradise by the sea.
But I now have to choose between my perfect domestic life and my lifetime dream job working across the country for the FBI. The man of my dreams doesn't want to go with me.
Can't I have it all?
Sincerely,
Tornin Two
Dear Tornin,
Well, no you can’t. No one can, actually. This having it all concept has really played a lot of havoc with the happiness of people’s lives. I have a small request to make of the culture here: can we just give it up now? Can we please accept that we are human beings on the planet earth (well, you are anyway—I’m a fictional character…but you know what I mean), and that as human beings we face certain constraints?
That said, human beings, if they’re not starving or homeless, actually do have a pretty good time in the limits set for them. For example, take your own life, Tornin. Happily married? Score one. How many of your friends can say the same? Romantic man of your dreams? Score two. Bought a cottage? You mean you don’t even have a mortgage? Score three and four. By the sea? Keep scoring…at least till the sea levels rise.
Now here’s where it gets interesting. You’ve been offered a “lifetime dream job working across the country for the FBI.” Okay. How many people have a dream job? Let alone get offered it. If you ask me, Tornin, you are really scoring high on the game card of life.
So now, like in every game, you’ve come to a point where you have to weigh options. Only you can do this, of course. Even I, a fictional character of over a hundred years old and lots and lots of personal experience in many areas cannot weigh this one for you. Too much information is missing. What makes you happiest? What can and can’t be compromised on? Can you leave hubbie home by the sea, go to work for a few months, and come home from time to time? Can you telecommute (on second thought, I suppose that’s not an option with the FBI). Can you open a second home with the pay from your new job, a pied a terre, that maybe you can convince your loved one to join you in when he’s not being idyllic by himself? It’s rather tough to BE idyllic by yourself, at least if you have a serious loved one, so it may be that he’s stonewalling you in hopes that the whole decision will just go away. This I don’t know.
Here’s my advice. Sit down by the sea (wrap up warm, now), and give an hour or so’s thought to what your priorities really are. List all the things you have, list all the things you want, then try to list them in order of preference. You may not be able to do this, but the exercise should be an educational one.
Now think about what you actually can do to rework your life to accommodate the first three things on the list. Can you do it? If not, jettison the one that can’t fit, and add the next one on the list. This is creative activity here. You’re literally creating a vision for your own life.
Like all real visions, though, this one has to stay in the rules. But rejoice, rejoice—the set of rules YOU get to play by, Tornin, are ones most people in the world would kill for. So one last plea: Know it. Live it. Have a great time doing it, and when you have to give something up, mourn it, get over it, and move on with energy and zest. Do not under any circumstances begin to feel sorry for yourself for having to give something up in the midst of such a cornucopeia of plenty. Stay away from antidepressants. If you don’t end up taking the job with the FBI, I’ll be willing to bet there’s enough crime going on in your own neighborhood to keep you busy with, say, a job with the local constabulary. You could even open your own detective agency. Or, alternatively, if your husband divorces you because you do take the gig, reflect: exactly what kind of a catch was he to start with? Is it possible you may find an even better, more giving, more tolerant man further along the way? Of course, if your husband really is the love of your life, this won’t be a problem. It’s a good way to find out, anyway.
Happy exploring. Good luck. And keep in touch.
Yours truly,
Ask Wendy