Lately I have had a mighty struggle about what I want to do with my life. I got my realtor’s license last fall after coordinating a team of realtors for about a year and a half. I loved what I did as a coordinator, and I am learning to love the new things I am doing, too.
The truth is, I’m a little introverted, so some of the things realtors do are harder for me than I wish they were. I’ve wondered if this is the right path. I worked so hard to get here. School took almost a year of studying at night, weekends, and any time I could tightly squeeze it in between my four kids, work, and church stuff. At one point I gave up, thinking I’d never be able to finish my realtor schooling because of the health problems I was facing.
Then I got my health managed, and by early last fall found myself taking the real estate exam. I got my license, and began practicing real estate. My first year has been a challenge, with ups and downs. I haven’t been sure if this is what I want to do with my life.
I have unloaded on my dear partner more times than I care to admit. I love my team and office so much. I have had terrific clients so far, and the more experience I get, the more capable I feel of helping people through whatever happens in a transaction.
I’m pushing 40, and maybe it’s a mid life crisis, but I kept questioning if this is the right path for me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change careers again. I have worked in a building supply store, a doctor’s office, a youth treatment facility, and as a writer and photographer, and I’m just starting to feel old. I feel like I can’t keep jumping around like this anymore.
One night a few weeks ago, Alex said something profound to me. He had said this to me in different ways, but he looked at me, put his hands on my shoulders and said, “You are just as smart as you ever were.” He waited for it to sink in. For months I had been questioning if I could do anything else, if I could do this, or if I had lost the possibilities I always believed in when I was younger. For months he had reassured me that I can do anything I set my mind to do.
Finally, his words sank in. I realized that just because I’m older, just because my life is more complicated with work, children, and health issues, doesn’t mean I’m not still me. Someone inside of me needs to write, and I had shut her down for a long time. When Alex said that, something switched, and I decided that I’m going to make room for writer Jenny to be part of my life.
Does this mean I have to stop being a real estate agent? For a long time I thought it might. But when I started looking into copywriting as a trade, I immediately knew that specific path was wrong. I think that Realtor Jenny and Writer Jenny are going to have to work together. And I think that because I am as smart as I ever was, I will be able to make that happen somehow.
So in this post, I am grateful that although I usually have the words, when I needed them most, Alex had the right words for me.
And just for an inspirational boost for anyone feeling like me, here is a great article from the Wall Street Journal letting us know that It’s Never Too Late to Start a Brilliant Career.
You are indeed as smart as you ever were!! In fact you may even be smarter! I am sure of it! Every new experience you have, every new piece of information you absorb is embroidered into the fabric that is you and makes you simply brilliant. At least that’s what I think!
Jenny, you are a talented writer. You are smart and talented in endless ways.
I am glad you are writing again. Your thoughts inspire me. You help me think more deeply about my own life. You help me find the energy to rise above my own dilemmas and care about those around me! Thank you.
What a stunner! I love those moments when the people who believe in us remind us of our capacity. Great post. Great reminder. I spent half an hour talking my patient’s girlfriend into nursing school on Friday. She thought she was too old at 28 but to see the way she lit up when she talked about it, I knew she could do it and she would never look back with regret.