You Can’t Control Life Events, but You Can Be in Control of Your Life

A personal path on conquering and losing dreams

Growing up

When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my determinant smiley answer was: “I want to be a teacher.”

During my early teens, the dream fade away, I didn’t want to be anything in particular. I didn’t even think about my future. I had a difficult emotional transition from pre-adolescence to adolescence.

Adulthood — part 1

At the age of 19, after graduating from high school, I met the father of my son. We fell in love, and one year later, we were living together. The following one, I had a baby in my arms. I was 21 years old.

University was not in my plans, I had no professional ambitions, not even a calling. I was happy having moved out of my parent's home, living with my boyfriend.

However, things didn’t go well, and at the age of 23, I went back to live with my parents, for about two years; until I had saved enough money to pay for a deposit to buy a house.

Adulthood — part 2

I was 26 when I became a house owner, living alone with my son. I was independent, in all sense of the word. I was proud of myself, I had been through hell and I made it through.

Now, I had a nice job, good friends and colleagues, and my bills were all paid. I was happy. But something was missing: a profession. I wanted to conquer something significant, to work in something that would make me happy, that didn’t serve the only purpose of paying bills.

I decided to follow my childhood’s dream.

That summer, I studied hard for the exams; I read books and newspapers, to ensure my written Portuguese was impeccable. On my son’s birthday, we went to the university I’d applied for, and there it was: my name on the list of the accepted candidates.

I was going to be a teacher.

At the age of 31, I graduated as a pre-school teacher (I initially started a degree for a primary teacher, but I fell in love with the toddlers). One month after, I got a one-month substitute job as a support worker in a shelter for abused children: a house only for babies.

That month changed my life. I finished my temporary contract knowing exactly what I want: to work with abused children. To give them what they missed in life. To be a positive role, a warm hug and emotional support. To work my best to provide children with a safe and joyful future.

The following years I work in private schools, as a pre-school teacher. I liked it, but my heart wasn’t fulfilled: I wanted different.

I didn’t want to work with privileged children, but with children that had lost everything. Children that didn’t even have parents who knew how to love them.

I pursued my dream so hard! I sent hundreds of CVs with a thoughtful and open-hearted motivation letter to all the institutions I was aware of.

I worked as a volunteer in the Child Protection Services; I used all the connections I got to get a paid job in the area. But it was hard to get one in child protection service - it’s public sector and, in Portugal, it’s extremely hard to get a job in public services.

A couple of years after, my son - who hated school - started acting out, and besides the low grades, he began to skip classes and leave school during that time. I had a few meetings at school, demanding they’d control the gates, 14-year kids can’t leave school without parents permission! The answer “we don’t have the resources to control everything,” became exhaustive.

A couple of months later, I transferred my son to a private school. Even if his grades wouldn’t go up, at least I was sure he was at school. As my salary wasn’t enough to pay for the tuition, I got a part-time job: on the weekends, I worked as a cashier on IKEA.

I loved to work there, there was a great team spirit, and the company’s policies resonate with me. Everybody was treated equally, and several procedures were in place to ensure workers were happy.

It never crossed my mind making a career at IKEA. At this point in my life, I was in a very good place: I had met my partner (the love of my life), and I was finally working in a shelter for abused children, as a coordinator. I had a happy life. I was exhausted all the time, having to work two jobs, but it had to be done.

Adulthood — part 3

The private school did wonders to my son: he still hated to study, but he loved the school and his new friends (some are still close friends). He left behind some bad habits he was (trying to) live.

In 2009 I wasn’t working two jobs anymore. However, free time was something I still didn’t have: I went to university again and completed a post-graduate degree in Community Psychology and Child Protection. I also took several advanced courses in child abuse and family dynamics/parenting skills.

I finally had my dream job: I was working with children, contributing to their education. I was also working with their abusive parents, helping them to acquire better parenting skills so the family could be, eventually, reunited again. Also, I was testifying in court, as a professional voicing the children's best interest. I loved it all.

But life threw a massive rock into my way. My brother died in 2009, and the emotional impact triggered me a severe crisis of a rheumatic disease.

Chronic pain became my life companion. Pain stole everything from me. I spent months lying in bed/sofa, each movement was torture.

I had to give up my job: the one I studied so hard to get and invested so much money and precious time.

When I was able to work again — by taking 10 tablets a day, but still in pain — I changed career, but I never gave up of teaching. I had a shitty job in an open space office, and I was also a coach. For a while, I taught professionals to work with abusive parents and abused children. I loved it, but it also had a bitter taste: I was teaching what I couldn’t do anymore.

I moved on, grateful for what I had. My son was healthy and happy, and I had a marvellous man by my side. I was in love. All that gave me strengths for the next step: in 2012, changing my lifestyle completely, I beat my disease. I became practically pain-free.

Adulthood — part 4

A new life began for me, one with regained mobility; with new learnings and a completely different life approach: I had started my path of self-knowledge. I started investing in MySelf.

Then, 2014 came. It was the worst year of my life.

In February, I lost my father to cancer. We weren’t very close, but he was my father, and he had a painful death. That hurt me deeply.

In May, I had another loss, it shook my emotional grounds. But I recovered fast and merciless, my heart was busy worrying about the dangerous surgery my partner would have in a couple of weeks.

It was on the 11th of June of 2014 that everything changed; that my life lost purpose. In 2014 I lost myself for sadness and emptiness.

I lost the love of my life.

The Rebirth

Four months after losing my partner — five years ago -, I landed in Luton airport, with my life packed in two big suitcases. In Portugal, I left my 20 years old son, my mother and my friends. I also left myself there.

In England, I started a new life; one alone, far away from everything that mattered to me. I did it all with a shattered heart, aching so much it hurt breathing.

But I kept moving forward, what else could I do?

Adulthood — part 5

In England, I worked as a manager in a care home for adults with learning disabilities for some years. I wasn’t particularly happy with the job, but it paid my bills and allowed me to live a modest life.

But in 2017, once again, life came hard on me: I got severe Tinnitus, the world became a maddening place to live in.

I entered a downward spiral, I was desperate. I even though ending my life.

Again, I had to quit my job. I was working as a manager in a care home for elderly people with dementia, and the stress of the role and the very loud environment made it impossible for me to be there.

As before, I had to find a new way out.

I worked for two years as a support worker; it was the time I needed to accommodate Tinnitus and to bring myself up again. It was one of the challenging things I had to do in my life.

Last August, I accepted a job offer as a coordinator in the care sector. I decided to give it a try in senior positions again.

Less than a month on my new role, I started regretting my decision. The job challenged my rest hours, and due to lack of human resources, I was in constant stress.

I don’t cope well with stress, it seriously affects my mental health. The red flag was already waving at me.

What I considered to be the Universe talking to me, I sprained my ankle; I went off sick for two weeks. It was when my manager revealed himself, demanding “more and better” from me. To bad for him, he didn’t know me well enough: don’t push my limits nor attempt against my rights. The day before my sick note expired, I sent him my resignation.

Here I was again: with no job, with no idea about what to do with my life. As I’m not one to feed self-pity, I kept moving. I applied for a job on IKEA.

While I was off sick with the sprained ankle, I start writing again on Medium, hoping to make some money (in England, the sickness benefits are ridiculously low).

Present

I lived several lives, all of them with ups and downs; with defeats and successes.

My last five years have been challenging, but I’ve made it through all. I moved to England, my son came to live near me nine months later. Now, I rent a cosy and modest house, and I share it with the best dog in the world (that saved my life).

I work on IKEA. And I am a writer in my free time. Was this my life dream? Absolutely not. Am I happy? Definitely yes.

Life threw me challenges, so I adjusted. But life also gave me opportunities. Which I held to, tight with both hands.

What I never lost was the ability to dream. I dreamed of travelling and I did; I dreamed of writing a book, so I wrote two. I dream of being a professional writer, so I’m building my way into it.

What the future holds for me is impossible to know, but in my 46 years of existence, this is the most precious lesson I learned:

You must follow your dreams, but be prepared for them to be stolen from you at any time. If it happens: dream again.

Dream. Dream big! Work for your dreams, never losing your perspective. If they don’t come true, dream again.