I’ve been thinking a lot recently of what does success mean to me? It’s an incredibly difficult question.
There’s this pressure, maybe mostly self-induced, that says I have to have everything. Everything being the cliche of great career, great friends, amazing boyfriend/girlfriend, a wonderful family, etc. But do I need to ‘have it all’ in order to be successful? Do I even want it all?
A little background. I just finished my first year of MBA at McCombs at University of Texas (hook’em horns!). My internship is going fabulously: I love where I work, with whom I’m working, and what projects I’m accomplishing. There’s still one more MBA year to go, and although a year seems long, recruiting is already starting. Already, friends and family are asking where I’m going next in life.
Career-wise, I think I have a great grasp.
- Marketing: I just spent 5 minutes starring past a fruit cart to analyze the ad behind it. Oh, wow, the perfect splash of cider behind the product bottle must have taken hours to set up an shoot. I wonder if the brand manager was on the photo shoot. They’re making a really bold statement; this isn’t how we normally think of cider. How are they trying to position themselves? What’s their reach? Only urban channel strategy or nationwide?
- Technology: About half hour ago, I completely lost my train of thought and couldn’t keep my attention on a really important meeting because I got an invite to Photovine. ‘Nough said.
- Consumer Packaged Goods: I’m spending half my summer nerding out over plastic varieties and couldn’t be happier. I spent a good chuck of lunch with my intern buddy talking about the taste spectrum of a Magnum ice cream bar and how we should do consumer testing on the process of lavishing over a Magnum. (Definitely got the “girl, you crazy” look.) I mean seriously, was I made for this or what?
Answer: working in CPG in a marketing capacity with a fair mix of digital. Got it.
Family and kids and stuff?… Looking put together and feminine?… Um, I have boobs; does that count? That’s where I’m completely lost.
There are too many people on the earth already. Do I really need give birth to feel like I’m success (I left out the article on purpose) or have experienced life to the fullest? Aren’t some people just not meant to have kids? I can think of so many ways I’m going to fuck up my imaginary child. If I don’t have a child when I’m still young, will I regret it when I can’t anymore? Are children really about love and joy, or is there a tinge of “OMG, someone has to take care of me when I’m old and senile”?
No idea. Maybe I’ll find someone and immediately develop an urge to procreate. Maybe.
I wonder. What does success mean to other women?