PRODUCTIVITY

What Are You Going To Be When You Grow Up?

Hanging onto youthful fantasies could be the reason you’re dissatisfied with your life

What are you going to be when you grow up?

Remember being asked that question?

The first time I was asked, I was around the age of six or seven. The question came from a visiting out-of-town relative — an aunt who had taken the time to sit down and spend a few minutes chatting with the youngest member of the family.

After asking me how I liked school and which subject was my favorite, she asked me which profession I planned to pursue. I’m sure to the other adults in the room, asking a six-year-old about their plans for the future might have seemed silly. But I remember putting a lot of thought into it, because with the rest of the family waiting to hear the answer, I decided it must be pretty important.

At that early age, our preferences about who we wanted to be and the kind of work we wanted to do were fairly predictable.

The boys typically chose occupations like fireman, pilot, cowboy, or doctor. The girls often wanted to be models, secretaries, nurses, or teachers.

Notice the gender-divide?

It wasn’t so obvious back then, because let’s admit it, fifty years ago, most professions were still considered gender-specific. Today, we don’t have such extreme delineation between job function and gender, but I think it’s interesting that when we compare the professional aspirations of youngsters from fifty years ago, the girls’ typically answered with a career goal that was a lot more realistic to attain.

Here’s the point

Our personal and professional aspirations started early in life. At age six, we were very impressionable. When we saw someone on TV or in a movie, and that character appeared to be having fun, making a lot of money, or receiving admiration and praise for their actions, we often decided that we wanted to do the same thing. Not because the activity seemed interesting, but because of the way it made us feel when we imagined ourselves doing the same kind of work.

Of course, that only lasted until we saw someone else doing something even more impressive — and then we’d change our minds.

Unfortunately, the occupations represented by those on-screen heroes and heroines were little more than fantasized depictions of the real thing.

It was like looking at a one-minute highlight reel that’s supposed to encompass a thirty-year career — there was just enough time to point out the successes, achievements, and sense of having accomplished something important.

But the disappointments, the frustration, the boredom, and the day-to-day slog of keeping up with the paperwork were conveniently missing — because nobody wants to hear about those, right?

Although those early experiences were lacking a clear distinction between reality and fantasy, they did provide us with one of our first introductions to the concept of work, of having a job, of doing something for money. And most important, we learned we had a choice, and that someday in the future, we would have the opportunity to decide on the kind of work we wanted to do.

The other big influence on our expectations for career success came from our parents

Their influence was often a very strong factor in shaping our values, which often makes a huge impact on the career choices we ultimately make. Sometimes, that can be a good thing. Other times, it can be disastrous.

I’ll give you an example of two extremes residing under the same roof.

When I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had an immediate answer — I want to run a grocery store. It was an easy and natural choice, because my father owned and managed a small grocery store located four blocks from the downtown area of Yuma, Arizona.

Situated in an older residential area, customers came from across the street and down the block, typically walking to the store because it was close and convenient.

On Friday afternoons and on Saturday, when I spent the day there, I swept the floors and restocked the shelves. By the time I was twelve, I was using the cash register to total up the orders and give customers their change.

What did my father think about my desire to be a grocer?

He did everything he could to dissuade me. He knew about the long, miserable summer afternoons when it was too hot for people to come out of their homes. That’s when the store remained empty — except for my dad — who stood behind the counter for hours, waiting for someone to walk in and buy something.

He knew the truth, and he wanted to make sure I didn’t have the same experience.

And looking back, I’ve always appreciated him for being honest, for showing me the negative side when I was too young to see it for myself.

And my mother? That was a different matter.

She was determined that I would become a gospel preacher.

This wasn’t just a whim or a preference because she thought it would be nice to have a preacher in the family. Oh, no. This woman was a religious zealot, and in my early teens, I learned she had made a promise to God that if he would give her a son, she would raise him to become a preacher.

From her perspective, making a promise to God put her in a do-or-die situation.

She became consumed with trying to control my life and destiny and, on several occasions, I overheard her telling friends that she would make me into a preacher or break me in the process.

And since I had no interest in pursuing the clergy, breaking me became her obsession.

As I continued to resist, she became even more determined. And so did I. It’s no wonder that in my late teens, I grew long hair, played in a rock band, and was, in her words, “one of the most rebellious children she’d ever seen.”

Part of that was true. Hell, I could have been the poster boy for the “rebellious youth of the seventies.”

How did it all work out?

On my seventeenth birthday, she told me straight out that I was a total disappointment to her, and because I had refused to follow her direction, she wished I’d never been born.

Now, I’m taking this unusual dip into the personal side of my life for a specific reason.

Those early influences go a lot deeper than we realize, and even as we get older, many of us still carry around those early impressions. I still have a deep and abiding faith in the Almighty, but I’m immediately suspicious of anyone who claims their actions and behavior toward others are motivated by an intimate relationship with the Divine.

As adults, we may not be consciously aware of it, but many of the expectations we have about our work — and our life — are based on those initial experiences — before we had developed the ability to make rational and realistic decisions on our own.

How do those childhood imprints about work affect us as adults?

Sometimes we can literally feel it — that nagging sense of never being quite being satisfied.

Something’s missing in our job or career, but we can’t seem to put our finger on it. We just know that our situation should be different, better. And we’re sure there has to be a more suitable career choice — with just the right mix of money, job satisfaction, and personal recognition.

So we tell ourselves to keep looking and keep our options open, because eventually, we’ll find the kind of work that makes us feel like we’ve arrived — that we’re truly in charge of our professional destiny.

So here’s the big question

Even though the majority of our childish career aspirations were unrealistic, impractical, or even naïve fantasies, are we still holding on to some imagined or romanticized version of what work and a successful career are supposed to be?

When career dissatisfaction originates from comparing our current work situation to a fantasized version of what work is supposed to be like, we’ve written ourselves a prescription for constant misery. Worse, it sets many of us on a constant search for the impossible dream — a prize that doesn’t exist.

Sure, our daydreams of unbridled success can be inspiring, and they can lead us to try new and different work options.

But they can also lead us into the trap of making the unrealistic assumption that the world is just waiting to celebrate our brilliance — once it discovers how talented we really are.

It’s a formula for a wasted life, and it needs to be packed away with the rest of our childhood fantasies, just like we did with Santa, the Easter bunny, and the tooth fairy.

So why do pop-psychologists and motivational gurus continue to propagate the idea that career success — money, recognition, and happiness — is available to anyone willing to abandon the conventional mindset of “working” for a living and, instead, follow their passion?

Because selling the fantasy is big business

We eagerly fork over a twenty for the latest book that encourages us to follow the beat of our own drum. We pay hundreds for an online course to learn the “secrets” of producing YouTube videos, or selling merchandise on eBay, or building an affiliate income from a blog or newsletter.

Unfortunately, the disclaimer at the bottom of those success plans, programs, and manuals is printed in 4-point font for a reason — because the inferred promises of making a fortune on your own terms “are not typical.”

I constantly encourage readers, clients, and friends who are dissatisfied with their work situation to investigate new options and pursue new opportunities.

But I always add this caveat: Make sure the vision you have of your future career is based on a realistic assessment of what will be gained — and lost — from moving where you are to where you want to be.

Work and career transitions should be based on an accurate and practical understanding of the day-to-day work, and not on the pipe-dreams of making an immediate fortune inspired by the latest incarnation of a “4-Hour Work Week.”

From personal experience, I can tell you that cutting the corporate umbilical typically means trading the eight “grueling” hours you put in as an employee for twelve to sixteen hour days filled with supplier problems, upset customers, undeserved bad reviews, product returns, and a hundred other “urgent” situations that will send your stress level through the roof. And this all takes place while you watch your dwindling cash reserves — originally funded by a second mortgage on your home — continue to drop toward a terrifying three digit balance.

And those two hour martini lunches you enjoyed on the company dime? Those are gone, replaced with a small bag of pretzels eaten on the fly between appointments.

At night, the stress and worry will rob you of your sanity — and your sleep. But not to worry. Because the next morning, you’ll start the process all over again.

Does that sound anything like the impressions of work you received as a child?

As adults, we’ve accepted the fact that many of our childhood beliefs were well-meaning misrepresentations. We no longer expect Santa to swoosh down the chimney with a bag full of presents. We know that wishing on a star only works for little boys made of wood. And we’ve realized that blowing out all the candles on a birthday cake typically spreads germs, but seldom manifests our most secret desires.

Our earliest influences concerning our future career choices were usually delivered with equal doses of protective compassion and personal bias. But that doesn’t make them any less suspect — or unrealistic.

Make sure your personal version of the American dream — especially as it pertains to your career — is based on an established and reliable course of action, and not on some latent fairy tale that distorts an otherwise attainable goal into an impossible-to-achieve fantasy.

“Hi ho! Hi ho! It’s off to work we go.” — Walt Disney’s Snow White & The Seven Dwarfs

© 2021 Roger Reid. All Rights Reserved.

Roger A. Reid, Ph.D. is the author Better Mondays and Speak Up

Roger A. Reid, Ph.D. is the host of Success Point 360 Podcast and author of Better Mondays and Speak Up. A certified NLP trainer with degrees in engineering and business, Roger offers tips and strategies for achieving higher levels of career success and personal fulfillment in the real world.