Last week I noticed that the ghost X account I created 9 months ago to see certain tweets for work has somehow acquired ten times more followers than this blog. Deeply buried beneath the aghast-ness I felt at making this discovery lay the secretly harboured hope that this blog would be on a vertiginous growth trajectory towards virality and, while we’re at it, a book deal, of course.
Until that fateful moment, I had been pretty good at convincing myself that So What Now was something that I purely did for fun rather than ambition. But it can be hard to maintain that attitude in a world of ubiquitous side-hustle-turned-dream-job stories and constant, multi, self-developmental project pressure.
Take the post of a former colleague who was ‘happy to share’ on LinkedIn that while on maternity leave, she ‘had the privilege’ to earn a specialist diploma in digital communications. I’m so happy for Tracy if that is what floats her boat. (I also want it to be noted that I did not use posting in the comments how happy I was for her as a springboard for shamelessly sharing my own bit of socially sanctioned self-promotion).
Yet I couldn’t help but also see this post as the epitome of the modern-day growth tale that expects us to keep multiple projects aimed for success even as we are growing life. Just picture a woman on the maternity ward, the umbilical cord running parallel to her plugged in tablet on which she is following a remote lecture on push notifications. The pinging sound of course participants’ chat messages providing the rhythmic backdrop to her delivering a future subscriber. Metrically induced labour. (Admittedly, this vision is tinged with my insecurity that anything I achieve in my 30s is not worth mentioning if I am not also popping out babies).
And my own trajectory bears all the hallmarks of the hustle trope.
- Chasing good grades since primary school – Check
- Competitive teenage dance career on the side – Check
- ‘Merit’ based scholarship – Check
- A place at a world-leading university – Check
- Tying all my self-worth to external markers of achievement – Check
- Always focusing on the next challenge to conquer rather than enjoying where I am at – Check
- Muscling my way through something that actually really isn’t what I want to do but somehow feel I can’t refuse because of the prestige and among all the coursework I have not time to question my decision anyways – Check
- Becoming miserable – Check
At the end of my Masters, I concluded that this list was really not working for me. Surprise. In fact, the most vivid memories I have from my time in Cambridge (which I hear is beautiful) is walking to the local Sainsbury’s at various stages of the day and night to load up on comfort foods, stress-snacking my way through what I thought would be my dream.
So, for my second masters (Yes, you’re reading right. Come to think of it, unconditional funding and indecision don’t pair well), it was full-on hedonism – as far as that is compatible with the disposition of someone who does two masters in a row. Think less cocaine for brunch, more Bacchanalian bookworm.
My proudest achievement of that time is of course the rewriting of my check list:
- Take a day off every week – Check
- Read and write about stuff I like without thinking about how it’ll perform – Check
…
That’s it. There’s nothing else on the list.
Oh, one miscellaneous item.
- Outperform my 273 peers – Check
At the graduation ceremony, someone commented that I must have been working so hard. I couldn’t say it then and I can barely write it now because of its sheer obnoxiousness: I worked hardest when I wasn’t, i.e. putting my new list into practice. (Resist the urge to insert the inevitable book reference about ‘working smart not hard’ by some predictable tech bro to bolster my argument).
So what dream am I stats-dashboard-reloading through right now? I have a job I don’t hate and enough time and money to keep a regular writing project that makes me jump out of bed at 5.30 in the morning. That or maybe we really do need blackout curtains. Success!
If my fun project doesn’t perform according to the metrics of a system that has sucked all joy out of learning for me in the past, I must me doing something right. I’d rather take all the unadulterated-by-promotional-pitching enjoyment of the project now with a faint potential of unintended success later, then no joy all hustle yet still no guarantee for success.
With time, more people might enjoy reading So What Now. If not, I can always explain this blog away as that piece of performance art about normalising mediocrity I did in my early thirties.
So, no LinkedIn posts about So What Now … yet.