Feeling Impotent

When Shannon posted this intelligently and sensitively written piece for the New York Times on Facebook, the voice sounded fairly familiar. It was only once I got to the very bottom that I realized it was written by my coworker.

To find out that she was diving into the new adventure of medical school as a mother of two, ages 8 and 10, was so impressive and inspiring to me.

Today I had a photo shoot which she attended. Once we finished, we chatted outside on the curb where the auditory study lab we had been visiting stood. I asked her what the news was of medical school. "Oh, I didn't get in" she answered. Much like when another coworker of mine confided in me that she'd come to terms a bit with her mother's death during a writing retreat and added "My mom actually killed herself" I was speechless.

I knew this was a huge dream of Barbara's, and I was so flustered. Her grades were perfect, she told me, she aced the MCATS. She had friends in pre-med or medical school who looked at her paperwork, and they saw nothing that would cause her to not be accepted. "I'm too old" she determined. Of course, as there is no way to prove this is why she was not accepted at the two places she applied, there is nothing further she could do.

She told me that in one moment she feels like she's OK with it, and then in the next she bursts into tears. I told her how I find that completely understandable, and how much I could relate to this. In my life these days, I felt the same way for different reasons. I have evidence of not quite being myself - I have formatted (deleted) three (camera) cards this summer before emptying their contents into my computer, losing the images they held. I have locked my keys in the trunk of my car, and caused substantial damage to the side of my car by not being extra attentive while backing out of a space last week and as such, hitting a support beam in the garage. Worst of all, I almost put my ice cream in the cabinet the other night. I mean, clearly I am not at my best.

When I told Barbara about how I'd been a little out of it these days and why, she said kindly, "You always seem to have it together!"

But I am still flustered by Barbara's news, and I can't help but compare it to my visions of women of the 1950s, daydreaming of being something other than a housewife and mother, at home baking casseroles and attending Tupperware parties. Of course, this is not exactly Barbra's case, but I feel it's so unjust that she has been denied this dream. This passion she discovered and decided to bravely pursue.

So much for being an "older" person and wishing for what our hearts' desire.