I found out April 1st that, come April 30th, my full time employment would be eliminated. My car decided that it wanted to make the sound that could only be compared to the whale in Finding Nemo. And that’s okay because gas is now more than the 412 area code that Pittsburgh resides in. It’s also okay because I still have my health, I don’t have a car note, and I’ve been laid off now three times so now I’m used to it. I know the processes, the procedures, and I gave up on associating my value with my employment. I no longer ask people what it is they do for work; instead, I ask, “What do you like to do?” because in this recession-shaped economy, I understand that it’s a luxury to do what you love.

I’ve very much been coasting on not worrying about what I cannot change and changing what I can. Worry will always steal from the right now. I could worry about the climate of the economy or the government, but worrying would not solve anything alone. And that’s on maturity and growth. Most people would have an eternal nervous breakdown, and I’m like, “Okay, on to the next adventure.”

I’ve lived in two different cities, knowing no one. Just following whimsy and the idea of an adventure, and that’s one of my favorite traits about myself.

37 is calming. To have seen so many once-in-a-lifetime events and to have been through so much, it’s created this calmness where there should be none. I can make plans, but I cannot plan for the plans to work out exactly as planned, and that’s just life. I can only hope that May is better than April. The next job that I have will align with my mission of adding value to a company without creating the notion that my self worth is dependent on. I am many more things than an employee. Interviewing has been an adventure in today’s job climate. Some days, I’m not even sure if these companies are looking for an employee, and they’re just out here seeing what people have to offer.

If I had to give someone career advice, I’d tell them to follow their heart but know the risks. I don’t have any children and don’t ever plan on having children, so when I fail (which I do quite often), I just have to pick myself up and find a solution with the pressure to succeed coming from myself. I can jump into a new field and not worry “will this work out” because, successful or failure, it always kind of works out. Win or lose, it’s always a great writing experience.

I remember the very first time I got laid off was from a job straight out of college. My friend drove me to the border, and we watched the falls in the dead of December cold. We had wine and relaxed as if we weren’t both looking for employment. I came home and joined AmeriCorps before becoming a flight attendant. The second lay off landed me in a nonprofit, but it gave me the opportunity to lean on my communications degree and taught me that I knew more than I thought I did. Who knows where this career break takes me and how long it will be, and as I’m not a fortuneteller, I cannot pretend to know. With my experience, optimism, and confidence, though, I’m sure it will be fun.

20-something-year-old me would probably love listening to stories from 30-something-year-old me. They’re such different stages. My 20s felt unstable, as in I had no direction for what I wanted to do in life and who I wanted to be. I wanted to be liked by everyone. My 30s are me knowing who I want to be, the direction, and acceptance that making plans is fun but never concrete.

And that desire to be liked went out the window as now I desire to be respected, as people pleasing will always be exhausting unless you’re in customer service, and even customer service agents have boundaries. 20-something-year-old me didn’t know my own boundaries. 30-something-year-old me sets boundaries for others and myself. They’re such different stages in life.

I have no idea what 40 will be like 3 years from now, but I love the woman I’m becoming. She’s comfortable with being uncomfortable and knows that nothing is concrete, she’s resourceful, forgiving (as resentment and hate are exhausting), and mostly centered in her peace because she did the inner work and is still doing the work.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that energy is only transferred. Allowing someone to bring me to anger is me taking that energy, and I don’t want or need it. A lot of the time, anger is misdirected, and it’s not my job to direct anger in the right place, nor is it my job to ensure that everyone has access to my peace. I now only feed the energy that I want to grow.