PhD Journal #14: Grief and career break

This feels like the right time to right time to write about the grief that came with career break and decision to start this research project.

Movie: Grief 1993 a hilarious comedy by Richard Glatzer

At midlife, leaving a career feels less like jumping off a cliff and more like slowly backing away from a houseplant you’ve been overwatering for twenty years. No one gives you flowers, instead everyone congratulates you on your bravery while you privately wonder whether you’ve just had a breakthrough or a very expensive nervous breakdown. I should have really started blogging on Substack with this post, back in January, but like most things I think them through very carefully, change my mind a hundred times, except Substack, here I am free to do and change my mind as I go. It became this huge urge to start something of my own that I really didn’t want to define, I try to define, at first, but that became awkward and forced, really, I couldn’t define its purpose because I actually did not know. I still don’t.

I finally decided to leave not a job, a workplace but my whole career I have been building for over a decade (17 years). It was my decision that wasn’t imposed by anyone or any structural circumstances. I wasn’t prepared to write about this when I started my Substack, being vulnerable publicly doesn’t really excite me, it’s not who I am. I also did not have the words and confidence to write about it. This is changing today. This is probably the first post I should have written, but hey, grief is not a linear process, mix in a peri-menopausal hormonal brain, intergenerational trauma, and something appears that I do not have a name for. I don’t want to call it mess. It isn’t. It is life. What I do know is that I am in the meaning making phase of my grief and stage in life, let me explain.

There is a particular kind of grief that we experience after leaving a career we have spent over a decade building. We know that our roles in life such as our job titles or careers define our identity of who we are. These roles that we hold in life don’t actually define who we are, that is a lesson I am learning now. I feel like midlife is a time to really evaluate and align with values because as the Czech’s say ‘Mít jednu nohu v hrobě’. Which is another way of saying I am getting old, at which point the transition to something that is aligned with my values, dreams and what I want out of life is more meaningful. Only to me really, my life, I choose to live it the way I want to. This time in my life feels messy, yet beneath all the messiness is a deeper feeling within, that is often not spoken about, this is grief.

At midlife, leaving a career can move us through stages of grief as we navigate change. Dr Elisabeth Kubler-Ross explains the five stages of grief that at first comes denial, the lingering hope that dissatisfaction will somehow resolve itself if we work harder or stay longer. Then anger may surface, directed at workplaces, circumstances, or even us for not changing sooner. In bargaining, we search for compromises: perhaps a different role, fewer hours, one more qualification, anything to avoid letting go completely. Depression often follows, bringing a sense of loss for the identity, status, community, and certainty that career once provided. Yet eventually, there is acceptance; not a cheerful surrender, but a grounded recognition that we have become someone different from the person who chose that path years ago. This acceptance emerges possibility from the understanding that grief and growth can coexist, and that releasing an old professional identity creating space for work that is more aligned with who I am now. Dr David Kesser added a sixth stage of grief. Meaning making, finding the purpose, wisdom, growth, or a new direction, I found this in my PhD research project, but it took me awhile to makes sense of it.

Career Break

What does it feel like being a woman in a man’s world, the luxury of having a life outside of the traditional roles of a woman is often unheard of in many parts of society. The family expectations, societal expectations and how they are interpreted by individuals. Let alone during midlife, it’s not a crisis, in human development psychology, Erik Erikson outlines this stage as generatively vs stagnations. Meaning the generativity stage has a deep desire to create, nurture, to create meaning for the younger generations and align with own values. On the opposite side is the stagnation stage of self-absorption, lack of personal growth, and feeling of disconnect from society. I felt like I was in a limbo between the two before I finally made the decision to start a PhD research project.

An idea of having several career breaks throughout my adulthood is an interesting concept, I have been reflecting on this as a woman, mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister. I’ve never chosen to have a career break. They weren’t by choice, just life decisions and desires I had chosen them for me. My first three career breaks included having three children where I’ve taken 12 months maternity leave because I chose to breastfeed them, this was important to me at the time, I knew the benefits, slightly pressured by society and bossy midwives. Workplace policies determined which parent stayed at home and received entitled paid maternity leave.

These policies are often referred to as patriarchy structures design my men, by the time our second child arrived, parental leave was introduced to government employees. We jumped at that opportunity. This was particularly important as we had several cycles of IVF before having our second child, which was an emotionally draining time for both of us. This was the first time I truly knew what the cost my career choice had as a frontline worker on my body. After this pregnancy I was warned not to have any more children, actually the fertility specialist, known for his expertise and poor bedside manner, was darn right scary, he literally scared the shit out of me when he expressed quite clearly, if you conceive you will die. I normally listen but I really wanted three children, our third child arrive soon after, complete surprise, easiest pregnancy or distracted by the two boys, I am not sure.

I have no regrets. I cherish all my beautiful life moments, and I wouldn’t change anything.

This career break is for me. This time while juggling most unrealistic expectations of part-time work and career. I started to notice the changes within me, physical, emotional and mental exhaustion caused by prolong stress, especially when work and life demanded so much of me. Mixing in grief, intergenerational trauma, burnout and perimenopause it is an interesting experience. I call it madness.

I was so incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to pitch my own passion project, have it supported by the University and devote myself to something that I am truly passionate that I know will make a difference in the lives of others. The money is non-existent, I have been picking up casual teaching contracts which helps pay the bills, puts food on the table, and allows me to be present for my family to continue with my project. I am grateful for this. A surprise perk was a funded trip to Singapore. It was brilliant!

Family

The other reason for following this path and this moves into the grief as we age and our children grow, is family. I noticed my children growing up so fast, really fast, my eldest is in year 10 and much taller than me. I don’t have any immediate family support around me, not that I can lean on for support. I feel like I am a secure base for them more than anything and intergenerational trauma rips through our family and continues to the present day. Truth is, I have absolutely no idea how I have managed to break the cycle within my family, I am so grateful, but it does make me think about my choices in life. My family is a solid base for them too, but it feels like there is no end in sight. I am exhausted.

I wondered about my potentially cynical attitude towards men and dating. My career track record is incredibly short in dating, for a very good reason. I’ve had two significant boyfriends, and I was done, lessons learned, pretty confident in this decision. I thought, f*ck this, this is bullshit, I am not willing to play messed up games who calls who and listen to their childhood trauma. In a mist of domestic abuse, violence and addiction that is well ingrained into my family present and past, generation after generation, I wasn’t going to be a part of it. I absolutely hated dating; it was like attending job interviews with my best dress on, booze and delicious food and then awkward kiss or ding dong ditch at the end of it. So many freaken rules. I could never work out the right move or wrong move. So I stopped.

The expectations and pressure to conform to someone’s ideal person, it was ridiculous, I just wanted to be me. I panicked during the first marriage proposal and pretended I couldn’t read the ‘Will you marry me’ message in the sand outlined with a love heart, on the most beautiful beach, the most perfect sunny day, with a guy who was amazing, until he wrote those words. Okay, I get it, so pretending I couldn’t read wasn’t the best move but in my defence, it’s like a switch flipped in my brain, amygdala alert, danger, danger, I saw red and panicked avoided the conversation until he eventually broke up with me. Win-win. I did not have to break his heart; he decided on his own. Not my proudest moment. I often wondered if I was really in danger, or if it was a false alarm.

A few years later, he was spotted by family, and the reports came back to me, good decision, external validation and a sign to trust myself received.

My parents never spoke to me about relationships, love, or dating. I watched movies, read few teen magazines, totally clueless. I grew up with war stories for f*ck sakes, every freaken romance ended in death, drunken assholes beating their wives and children or a missing body. A great contraceptive strategy. It works. It was back then, not something I could really relate to, but it consumed the stories I was told. I decided it was too hard and did not wish to participate. Decision made. Solid plan for life. Avoidance in full force here.

I had to work stuff out on my own, I didn’t want that for my children, especially my eldest son, who is navigating the most confusing time in his teen life right now.

Internal validation of being able to recognise, accept and value my own thoughts, feelings, experiences, choices without needing approval, permission, praise from others is deeply seeded in my understanding of relationships and parenting. I have had it all along before I received external validation. Self-trust.

Cycle of Pressure

I think one of the biggest lessons I have learned so far in this PhD journey, feels so surreal, because there’s such a huge pressure to innovate new knowledge, I am no stranger to pressure. What no one tells you is that there is pressure within in that. I found throughout my life I have developed these completely unrealistic standards for myself, related to performance, that leads to overworking, exhaustions, internal pressure to be perfect and then if I don’t achieve it I am crippled with anxiety, self-criticism and self-destruction. These unrealistic standards are incredibly debilitating and crippling. The term protectionist is a term I have been labelled with during my time in the PhD program, I am not comfortable with it, it is so common for PhDs, I’ve never called myself a perfectionist before.

So when I first started my blogging on Substack, I wanted to understand success by practicing failure and I wanted to track it, find the evidence it looks like and feels like. I know this sounds ridiculous, but true, a real conversation killer I know, I hear you. Doing something completely opposite. This was important to me, I didn’t want help to grow, gain subscribers and followers. I needed to understand failure to understand the concept of perfectionism that I have been labelled with.

I now have 55 drafts as evidence of failure. These drafts are absolute rubbish by my standards. I unpublished several early articles. In this little social experiment on myself, I found my writers voice, I found incredible positive support and encouragement in the Substack community. It finally feels liberating to be writing on Substack, in a voice I recognise, this validates me internally. At first, I did need external validation to get me there, reading various authors work, reflecting on my own writing, asking questions about different authors writing process, all of it has been incredibly helpful. I am thankful to the positive encouragement of the Substack community that has helped me quietly achieve a goal I have been working towards for the last eight months.

This year’s conference in Singapore was also a huge eye opener for me, another form of evidence I saw for myself, to name the internal pressure. I saw brilliant minds present and deliver half-formed ideas wrapped up in clever words, with no certainty, final product, keeping it open ended giving it the X-File vibes of something is out there. That trip taught me another important lesson about self-trust. One I had in my personal relationships but needed to learn within my PhD.

On a closing studio fieldnote, my next move, this is the part of my PhD where I start thinking about career moving forward, now it is really being open to new possibilities. I have a loose plan, which includes earning a wage, it is solid, it has no title, organisation in mind, job description … I am embracing ambiguity for the first time.

Continue reading…

PhD Journal #13: Disconnection