Securing the bag
Doug and I had a very dynamic “fake it ‘til you make it” stage. In our mid-to-late Twenties, both are possible: you can be both faking it and making it, depending on the day. I was at the start of my brutally underpaid, post-Recession career in litigation. Doug was only a few years from the day he rolled up to New York City with a duffel bag, a dream, and enough cash to buy a mattress. Both of us were buried in six figures of student loan debt, earning in negative sums, floating by on roast beef sandwiches I packed us for lunch.
When you’re betting on yourself, though, appearances matter. Hoping to look professional enough for old men to stop calling me “young lady” in court, I scrounged every Theory sample sale and Loehmann’s (RIP) on Sundays. Doug flipped Ferragamo ties on eBay. But we never said no to $17 rooftop drinks with people who could help us, even if it meant we’d be having Fairway sausages for dinner, again.
You might ask, why did you do this? There were other ways. Sure there were, and this is the perfect place for a disclaimer, because lawyers and financial professionals love disclaimers: nothing in this newsletter constitutes financial advice. (There! Are we good now?) I only share with you this peek under the hood to set the stage for what happened next.
At 28 years old, Doug closed on his biggest client. Mere months before our wedding, it was a huge deal for us. Goals that seemed years away were suddenly visible down the road. Our real life together was no longer a figment – more making it, less faking it, and the deal couldn’t have come at a better time. So what did he do?
He bought a watch. A very expensive watch that would shock the conscience of any real adult, which he was not, with an established income, which he did not have. I could not understand. The move felt selfish and nonsensical, short-sighted and irresponsible. We both liked nice things, but this was beyond the pale of materialistic, an affront to my parents who were helping us with our big day. Buying this watch was antithetical to our position – it wasn’t where we were.
But he felt the opposite. He had been trying to jumpstart his career for five years, attending business school at night to double-down on entering the right spheres of influence. Even our most certain paths felt uncertain, tarnished with imposter syndrome about our age, to our means, to our purpose for even trying. We were so used to being told “no,” but that one “yes” was bigger than any one before it. Even the one from me, on the steps of Lincoln Center. (He didn’t need to say that part. I just knew.) Despite how it appeared, he explained, this was not an impulse buy but a signifier to himself every time he would look down at his wrist for years to come. He was here. He was worthy. He was capable. I was still upset, but I knew better than to stand in his way.
Someone I admire recently Tweeted about her “never-look-back moment” and asked others to share their own. Securing this client was Doug’s, and the watch was his memento. Mine took a lot longer.
As a lawyer and a woman, I looked everywhere to find my place. From small firms to large firms to corporate and in-house counsel roles. From ambition to manipulation. From the peak of possibility to the brink of giving up. I am not trying to be dramatic, but that is truly how it can feel to be a woman in this profession. It can take years to align with an environment tolerable enough to thrive, and then Life Happens and even that environment doesn’t look at you the same. Only when your back turns to face commitments to your family do you begin to see who has your back, too. Sometimes, you can anticipate the friction. Other times, it’s an illuminating betrayal.
After giving birth to two daughters, I knew what that looked like. I saw my prior decade from a bird’s eye view; one step forward and two steps back. Maybe this is the life of any mother. Of any woman. Mine may not have been harder than the next, but as I stared at my second little newborn – about to assume double the challenge – I felt the most honest truth staring back at me. I am her example, and I will not be weakened. Nothing anyone says or does will blemish this fact.
I began to live that truth. I accepted a new position at a former employer that I was so incredibly proud of. The first time I worked there, I had hoped that someday, my path would lead me to that job. But the path didn’t lead me there – I led myself. My work, my choices, my relationships, all carried me to my never-look-back moment. Mine took much longer than my husband’s, but that is a modern-day injustice we all know too well, and that is even more reason to celebrate it.
Months into my new role, I thought about what my version of the watch could be. It took some time, but I found her: a very special handbag. She is professional but cool. She is take-no-nonsense. She is suffragette white, the color of women gaining ground in this country. She is not subtle – she doesn’t fade to the side. She is me.
And every single time I carry her, she reminds me.
Mementos may appear materialistic, even foolish to the outside eye. And for sure, as my financial advisor would warn, every good day isn’t worth splurging over. But when your own moment arrives, and you want to see it and feel it forever, do just that.
What was your never-look-back moment? Tell me, averagejoelle3@gmail.com.
The little things
Here she is. We haven’t been out together much lately (hence the pajamas), but I am manifesting for springtime. Spring will be our time.
Also
In my prior life - the one before children but also the one before COVID - I was an avid foodie and shared recipes, dining, and travel experiences in a food blog. I miss those days very much. When New York Magazine sought a writer to create a newsletter about dining around the city for an entire year, a piece of me died inside, but now that it’s here, I am so overjoyed to read it. Check out the first installment here and consider subscribing.
You are such a good writer Joelle.