The Difficulty in Doing Difficult Things.

It’s been a bit of a crazy few weeks.

I started developing some anxiety when May came to a close and June appeared. My contract ends in August with my current employer and so the decision of what’s next was weighing on me.

With my parents visit to Shanghai in the Spring came serious dialogue about the fact that, if the right opportunity was to come my way, I was willing to make Shanghai a very permanent home for a couple of years.

With this came support, but also anxiety, from all sides. You know, your parents just want you close to home, and at the same time I was feeling the desire to be closer to my family, especially my niece and nephew.

In June I started looking for work, both here, in Canada, the U.S. and Europe. I went into the time-consuming process with an open mind about where I was to settle, but I was also applying for jobs in a very specific sector. For the first time in my life I was applying for jobs with a long-term objective in mind, knowing exactly the type of work I wanted to be engaged in.

And so the process began, cover letters, resume tweeking, networking, meetings, skype calls, you name it. My evenings were packed and I was feeling both excited and exhausted.

I got a call back from a place here in Shanghai, and a meeting was set up. It was an evening interview that began around 7:30 p.m. and ended around 10:30 p.m.  Let’s just say that a very interesting conversation evolved and leaving that interview I had lots to think about. To be honest, I left the interview intimidated and scared and worried, but hooked.

Let me back track a little.

I have been blogging online for sometime now, and have always followed fashion pretty religiously because, well, because it was something that spoke to me. I mean…I am a female after all.

But seriously, I was interested in what was happening, I suppose, on a different level. My night classes in college often entailed pinning and writing new posts about Elie Tahari’s newest collections, Stella’s color palettes or Rick Owen’s use of layers and textures.

After college, a close family friend asked me, why are you taking the political, international relations route, you should be trying to pursue a career in the fashion industry. I was quick to brush it off; “it’s a hobby, and plus there’s not much of a chance of a promising career in fashion.” I didn’t consider it because my educational background, or my work experiences, would be unlikely to offer me the opportunity.

With Shanghai came unexpected opportunity.

Scratch that.

With Shanghai came opportunity.

With my second interview came the question, “If we offer you this position now, will you take it.”

My answer: “I Honestly need to think about it.”

And so I bring you back to what this post is all about.

The difficulty in doing difficult things.

My thoughts leaving my second interview: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

It’s very difficult for me to verbalize the chemistry and conversation that ensued during my interviews. I was very honest about my hesitancy, about my inexperience, about my anxiety.

The response from my interviewer: ‘We believe in you, and that’s all that matters. I believe in you, or you wouldn’t be here.’

I can’t really explain the kind of comfort that comes with words of that sort.

I believe in you.

I believe in me too, but I don’t want to let anyone down.

I was honest and transparent and vulnerable. My voice trembled.

‘Too many damn things in this world are mediocre. There’s no reason why I can’t live the life I always imagined myself living. I know I can deliver, I know that I have vision, I know that I have passion and drive that a lot of other people just don’t have. I know these things. But, I may fail.’

‘YOU WILL FAIL. AND THIS WILL BE HARD. BUT, I BELIEVE IN YOU. ‘

And so when the ball was in my court to get back to the company on whether I was ready to commit to such an opportunity, a million thoughts sprinted through my head. Amongst those:

1.     Distance from home
2.     Living in China for an extended period of time and what that meant.
3.     Alex & Ana growing up without me around
4.     Finding a partner abroad.
5.     How much further behind I would be when it came to material possessions. (STUPID, BUT REAL.)
6.     The difficulty of a learning Mandarin and seriously operating with it on a day to day basis.
7.     The difficulty of working in a Chinese company and the cultural differences that would arise.
8.     The fact that many of my closest friends in Shanghai are leaving.
9.     The fact that my salary here is significantly lower than it would be in North America.
10.   Missing milestones; weddings, babies, engagements, reunions.
11.   Spending less then a month a year with my family…

We are quick to build this glamorous image around the expat lifestyle, but with this lifestyle come’s many sacrifices and at one point you have to assess whether you have it in you to make those sacrifices.

With difficult concerns came revelations.

This will be the most difficult thing I choose to take on in my twenties. This will be stressful, this will be draining, this will be culturally demanding, this will be far from home, far from familiarity, far from my friends and most importantly, far from my family.

So in my head I frame scenarios.

If I was to go home, what would it look like. Yes, I would get the comfort of home, of mom and dad, of my sister and the kids, of my friends. I could go and get a coffee at Elm and fish tacos at OJ’s and spend evenings wandering the river valley. Writing all this down makes me want to pack up and just leave. I can’t really explain how much I miss the smallest things.

I miss dates with Becca and B. Patios and manicure dates and walks with Nixon and shopping dates. Movie nights. Nights around a fire. Nights at billiards. Saturdays at the market.

Sunday mornings with Alex in my bed telling me all his favorite stories and flashing me a mouth full of missing teeth. Ana running into bed as soon as she hears us cracking up.

Sunday family dinner dates in the backyard. Dad’s BBQ’ed chicke and mom’s greek salad. Listening to the chaos until dinner is done and we are all finally sitting around the table eating.

Evenings by myself, a stop at LEVA for my favorite coffee, Globe and Mail on the patio, a walk across the High Level. 

My heart gets heavy when I think about these things.

We write to taste life twice. To relive these moments, even if in the slightest bit.

It seems like an easy decision. You put your time in, you lived in China for a year, you learnt lots and saw lots and met some amazing folks. Now, now it’s time to head back.

For short term fulfillment, for immediate laughs, for full hearts, yes, the decision is easy.

The reality: difficult decisions are more often then not, the right decision.

For all the things I constantly find myself yearning for, I recognize that I need to make difficult decisions.

Taking this job is difficult. Not taking this job scares me to death.

The desire to run home was real, is real, and is felt on numerous occasions throughout the months when I hit walls. But then, I think about all the times I made a decision based on security and complacency and how fucking miserable it made me, especially in a professional setting.

There is so much more shit I have to deal with here.

Doing taxes in two countries, renewing visas and residencies and dealing with red tape on a non-stop basis, figuring out how to keep my Canadian account afloat to pay off my Canadian credit cards, buying ginger at the grocery store and not knowing how to say ginger and wanting to pull my hair out cause there’s no ginger, allocating 10 vacation days to go home and visit, having to look for a new apartment soon and knowing the chaos that goes along with that process in China.

BUT ALL THIS SHIT IS REALLY MINOR IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF LIFE.

The difficulty in making difficult decisions is real.

But, there’s no other decision to make other than staying here.

And so when I made the call home, the emotional response was expected. I suspected sweltering tears and selfish responses that just asked me to come home.

A call to my mom and an email to my dad: “I’ve signed a three year contract.”

Mom: “Tanja, I got emotional because I won’t see you for so long, but I understand why you want to do this, and if this this is what you love, then do it, by all means do it!”

Dad: "Hey TC, 
Sorry for not being a little more expandable on my words and feelings. You know how proud and happy I am regarding your life steps. When I was in Shanghai enjoying one of the best hamburgers ever, I told you that I admire your life and business approaches which will hopefully lead you towards your goals and love. Keep being smart, my girl."

After all the emotional stuff, and once the decision was finally made, the window was finally opened to celebrate and fully realize the opportunity in front of me.

For the first time in my professional life, I can say that I am exactly where I should be.

Shanghai Fashion Week Oct 16

There’s a difficulty in doing difficult things.

There’s a much grander difficulty in doing things you don’t want to do.

And as per some inspiration, Jim Carrey, of all people, nails it.

All there will ever be, is what’s happening here, and the decisions we make in this moment, which are based in either love or fear. So many of us choose our paths out of fear disguised as practicality. What we really want seems impossibly out of reach and ridiculous to expect so we never dare to ask the universe for it. I’m saying, I’m the proof that you can ask the universe for it.

My father could have been a great comedian, but he didn’t believe that was possible for him. And so he made a conservative choice, instead, he got a safe job as an accountant, and when I was 12 years old, he was let go from that safe job and our family had to do whatever we could to survive.

I learned many great lessons from my father, not the least of which was that you can fail at what you don’t want, so you might as well take a chance on doing what you love.