Pushing Six

People say that most of my generation has at least five careers in their lifetime. I'm 32 and I'm currently pushing six.

I wanted to be a dancer, but I sucked. The harder I tried, the less coordination I had. And I tried really hard. So hard I broke. But even though my feet were made for it, my brain wasn't. It was hard, but I loved it.

So instead, I went to design school. I worked 12 hours a day with charcoal, canvas, photoshop, fabric, paper, colors, paint, and passion. I decided to specialize in Fashion Design. I draped muslin over mannequins, sewed thousands of stitches, made patterns and picked fabrics. I worked hours and hours and fell asleep on the drafting tables before the morning critiques. It was hard, but I loved it.

I got an internship at Target in Minnesota. I was hired straight from college. I designed little kids clothes. I met new friends. I had a nice apartment. I found a boyfriend. I ate fancy meals and drank fancy drinks. I went to the gym. I lived for happy hour. It wasn't that hard, and I thought I loved it.

One day I walked into the office and a team of buyers inquired "Can we take a button off this boys polo shirt?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because then we've only got to pay the women in Bangladesh 14 cents an hour instead of 18", they explained with an eye roll.

"Well can we?"

I left.

I got into yoga. In the bitter Minnesota cold, I practiced in a studio where the windows fogged up with heat and I wouldn't consider myself done until my shins started sweating. It was hard, and I loved it.

I did a teacher training and right away got a studio manager job. I was a natural. I felt like a leader. I taught 18 classes a week and saw 300 people or more a day. I dealt with grumpy people, happy people, crazy people, kind people, angry people, abusive people, sad people, people people. I fixed lights and painted walls and hired electricians and fired teachers and I sweat and I sweat and I sweat. It was hard, and I loved it.

I got promoted. And got promoted again. I was killing it. Seven years later, I was managing 28 studios in California. I oversaw over 40 managers and 400 teachers. I was responsible for millions of dollars of revenue. I was named in lawsuits. I hired people. I fired people. I was laughed at, cried at, yelled at, glared at, smiled at. I was despised, adored, feared and loved. You'd think managing a yoga studio would be easy. You would be wrong. It was hard. And I loved it.

At my studio, teachers started at $3o USD per two hours shift. One hour for the class and 30 minutes on either side for time at the desk. We asked them to sell Teacher Trainings. We cajoled them. We convinced them. We bribed them. We prayed that they would do the work and help us run our business. We brought in 300 students a day and we paid them minimum wage. I made excuses. To myself, to them, to my team. I said it was for the love of yoga. I said we had to start this way but it would get better. We went from 20 studios to 200 in eight years. Our teachers went from $30/class to $32. How was this fair? I asked myself over and over. But I loved it. They loved it. It was the best job ever. Wasn't it?

I still look back on my time with the Yoga studios with love, respect and joy. I made so many friends. I learned to manage and was given opportunities I never dreamed I wanted. I grew into myself and out of myself. I made connections. I learned to persuade, lead, sell, connect, empower, motivate. I practiced tough love. I was gentle. I was fair. The community was my everything and I'd never change a thing. It was hard, but I loved it.

I left in April of 2017. I could take it anymore. I felt like my soul was straining against shackles in a darkened basement and the whole world was outside. I felt like a blindfold had been ripped off and I couldn't ignore the light anymore. I couldn't look away. I needed to travel. I needed to feel. I needed to break out of the bubble and see. So I did.

I've been traveling ever since. I don't have a home, a car, health insurance or a savings account. I've got two suitcases, friends, and various freelance jobs. It's hard. But I love it.

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