It would be a great deal easier if on the day that I was given blue eyes, a protruding bottom lip and really crappy feet, I'd also been provided with a yard stick to measure up to. A fixed stick of specifications to which I should aspire. My Platonic Ideal, if you will. It wouldn't have to be a very exciting yard stick, but it would be solid and it would be mine. I'd know how I was doing, and where there was left to go.
As it is, every day that I make all my work life decisions brings new expectations and concerns. Am I Letting Myself Down, Selling Myself Short, Settling For Second Best. Are things happening too fast, or too slowly. Should I feel let down that Mumsnet doesn't have a discussion thread for women in business, or feel more unsettled by my need to feel supported by Mumsnet.
At every stage in my meandering career I've aspired to live up to something. The Ideal Teacher. The Ideal Conference Producer. The Ideal Marketing Director. But without a job title, or a boss, or a job description, there's nothing there. A black hole. And in the middle, sucking itself silly, is a big neon light flashing Whoever You Want To Be. And there isn't anything more scary than that.