On Being Vulnerable

Hello?
Is there anyone out there?
Seriously, sometimes I wonder who's actually reading this thing.

I'm sort of hoping its no one for this post. But it probably won't be. Murphy's law or whatever.

The past few months in our house have been stressful for us. Lots of changes. Things are sort in shake down mode. The biggest changes though are probably the ones I face independently. Which is weird to address on a public blogosphere-land page. But I'm doing it.

Why might you ask?

Because I'm try hard to be okay with vulnerability.
Vulnerability is tough for me.

I'm pretty type A. I don't like failure. I don't like giving up control. Perfectionist. List maker. Over-achiever. Annoyingly particular. Stubborn like a mule.
Thats me. Right here.

And because of those things there are moments in our life I don't put on the blog. There are days when we are miserable parents and days when the boys are driving me so crazy I think there must be something wrong with one of them, there are days when I burn the crap out of dinner, or create something that belongs as a headliner from craft-fail that looked just so lovely on Pinterest. There are epic fails in money management (oh F&(#!! How on early did that cost THAT much! We are broke AGAIN!), shitty date nights or lack there of, ruined laundry, broken furniture, etc. All of these things happen all the time, but generally I try to observe the "one in one out" and emphasize the positive. All about the positive because I really don't want the boys to dig around in the blog as young adult and see my vivid complaints of our life. Because even though its not all roses, I wouldn't change it for a moment. I love our family, being this wife, this momma, this bit of crazy.

Life is all about being a better you, though (read ME) and I know that I super suck at dealing with being vulnerable. So I'm working on it, courtesy of the great Brene Brown. I super love Brene Brown, but I have to work really hard at it. Daring Greatly is a really big adventure for me.

Anyway, so here's my first go at being vulnerable to the world and writing about something I typically would NEVER write about.

I'm applying for a new job (gasp).
Looking at the sentence looks pretty ridiculously tame on paper. New job? So what?
But here's the thing. In my whole life I've NEVER not gotten the job. Every single job I've applied to I've gotten or been recruited for. So, just a few weeks ago I decided to apply for tenure-track faculty position and this process is the first time that I could be not even in the same ballpark as the type of faculty member this search team wants. I have no way of knowing if I match their wants right now and its terrifying and a GIANT dose of being vulnerable. I'm totally in the waiting game of hearing if they are even interested in my application and its torture. Mostly because I am sitting in a moment where vulnerability means the potential for big life changes.

Tenure track is serious stuff. It means five years at least of busting my ass in ways I didn't know was possible to get tenure. It means publishing like a mad person (which is something I'm not so good at currently, so it also means growing this capacity first) -- you know what they say, publish or perish.
But it also means job security, flexibility post those five years,  amazing retirement and money in the bank. It means getting to work on what I want to work on and am passionate about and it means supporting graduate students to become doctorate level professionals. Its this balance of wanting something badly and not sharing about it for fear of failure which I've always avoided because it meant being vulnerable. Had I not written this post I would never have to explain if I don't get the job. I would never have to spend time perseverating on that failure.

BUT, it also means I wouldn't have the opportunity to be accepting of the support from family and friends if I fail and the experience to help me grow to create a reality in my work that I want-  to do the things that make a difference to me so that the lines between work and happiness blur.

So here's to being vulnerable.
Tiny steps, folks. Tiny steps.