it's the law.

I know my recent posts have been “heavy” and “deep.”  I think those were the actual words my parents used to describe them… basically asking between the lines if I was ok.  So just to clear up any confusion – yes, I am SO ok.  Better than ok.  Awesome actually… and really really happy on a level I have a hard time explaining.  Maybe that’s why I’ve been so deep and long-winded lately.  I’m not sure I have the words to describe my current emotional bliss.   And while I do think I deserve this kind of happiness and worked my butt of to get here, I have definitely been pinching myself regularly…

In the last two weeks, I’ve been inundated by random emails or blog comments from disgruntled, fed up and exhausted lawyers who have hit rock bottom and are looking to the Internet for guidance.  It’s incredible actually, and I’m proud to be a part of a safe haven for those seeking refuge from the billable hour.

I am traveling right now, coming off an incredibly successful whirlwind trip to Salt Lake City, Utah.  SLC is a GORGEOUS city, with in-your-face mountains, a park around every corner and some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.  I could live there but for the lack of wine stores.  I know I should have known this.  I’ve heard there are no liquor stores in the land of Zion.   It’s the law.  That Utah was like Fight Club: “The first rule about Utah is we don’t talk about liquor stores.”  But I didn’t know exactly how bad it was until I tried to “swing by a wine store” to pick up a celebratory bottle to take to dinner with friends.  Two hours of driving and 20 minutes of Googling later, I finally found a liquor store, The Utah State Liquor Store.  And the place was packed.  Not “Costco on a Saturday” packed, but “the apocalypse is coming” packed.  And it was just a regular Tuesday.  There was not a parking spot to be had, but I had driven around for 2 hours and wasn’t about to turn back now.  Turns out, it was worth the wait.  Apparently when the state is regulating the sale of liquor, there’s very little price gouging.  I was shocked to discover Utah had really good wine for very competitive prices!  Anyway, I digress.  It wasn’t my intent to discuss access to wine in Utah, but it kind of goes hand-in-hand with the topic I had planned to write about: Comradery.  Especially among women.  Especially women lawyers.

A recent email I received from a female entertainment lawyer in LA mentioned how many women could benefit from hearing the stories of other women getting out of law.  I’ve never considered myself a feminist in the traditional sense, but I have definitely felt that whatever men can do, women can do just as well.  Law was a different animal, however.  There is still a great deal of sexism in the practice of law, and you would think this would bring women together to fight the system and overcome the inequalities.  Au contraire.  Instead, many women in the legal profession have an “every woman for herself” attitude and believe it’s her versus the male masses. 

I’m fortunate to have a group of phenomenal girl friends from law school, all of whom are still attorneys.  We get together often to drink wine and talk about life, love and the practice of law.  I don’t know what I would do without these women and their support.  They have been the first ones to build me up when I’ve felt worthless, when the profession had me feeling two inches tall and full of anxiety and self-doubt.  They’re the ones who reassured me that I wasn’t alone in my frustrations and convinced me that I really was a good lawyer.  It’s funny, the older generation of attorneys – the partners, the mentors, the senior associates – they never tell you you’re a good lawyer.  The best compliment you can hope for is “You’re going to make a great lawyer someday.”  Gee, thanks.  What about today and that project I just busted my ass on?  Anyway, my legal support group never said anything like that to me… ever.  I’m so lucky to have them. 

I hope this blog provides some kind of support… something similar to the strength I take from my group of amazing women… to those who aren’t sure what to do next and only know their misery.  I hope if nothing else, reading this, they know they’re not alone, and perhaps more importantly, that they’re not crazy. 

Ladies, it’s not you… It’s the law.

lots of grace

Like anyone writing for a general audience and hoping to attract new followers, I've hesitated to bring up God in any of my posts, worried that I would be pegged as some kind of religious zealot, holier-than-thou type and be immediately shunned from the blogosphere.  I knew that I wanted to write about God's work in my life and my struggles with letting go of the reigns (the cliche, but true "let go and let God" thing), but I wasn't ready to actually hit "publish post" until I had a product that offended no one while adequately encompassing this recent journey I've been on.

I found encouragement in Kristin Armstrong's blog, Mile Markers  and her awe-inspiring ability to write about faith, family and running in a way that doesn't make me feel like I need run sub-7 miles, be a mother to anyone other than my chocolate lab or earn Christian of the Year to be a worthwhile human being.  She doesn't impose her beliefs or her talent on anybody, and yet somehow the reader comes away with an acute understanding of God's importance in her life.  In the same way she doesn't write "running is very important to me," but yet everyone gets it, her faith silently speaks volumes.  It's impressive... and having read her material, I've been nervous incorporate God into my posts because I've been afraid I wouldn't do it as gracefully as she does.

Kristin herself summed up the most recent lesson in my life, which is something I continue to struggle with, and probably will for the rest of my life, and it's worth quoting:

The most marked difference in the wait of hopeful expectation is the component of Trust. Whatever the challenge that lies ahead, be it of a personal nature, work related, or running related, the wait is the time to cultivate trust. Trust God, trust your training, trust your body (listen to it!), and trust your heart.

People who learn how to wait are ultimately the people who know when to make a move. Whether this means the understanding of when to have a crucial conversation, when to approach your boss about a new assignment, when to open and offer our hears, when to say yes, when to say no, or when to stop looking at our watch and run with joy all the way to the finish line–we will only know how to go for it if we have truly learned how to wait for it. Patience is power, my pretties.

Courageous and still in the Wait.  In the last year, I have finally stopped going through the motions of faith.  Showing up where I'm supposed to show up on the day I'm supposed to show up and saying the things I'm supposed to say in an effort to be "rewarded" by some higher power with everything I believed I was entitled to.  I finally realized how desperately I have needed to get over myself.  I realized it's not all about me and I need to learn to wait.

I'm impatient, and I like to be in charge.  I hate waiting.  I hate having things outside of my control. For a long time, I thought if I just wanted it badly enough and worked hard enough, I would make it happen (whatever "it" might be).  I refused to accept that maybe some things weren't meant to be.  And this made for an absolutely miserable life.

Some readers might find this post ironic or out of place because when it comes to leaving law, I'm all about action.  That message remains true.  If you've thought incessantly about leaving law...  If the thought of going into the office brings tears to your eyes... If the blinking red light on your Blackberry sends you into a state of hand-wringing anxiety... and it's been this way for awhile... I would encourage you to give serious consideration to leaving law.  Don't wait. 

The "wait" has become important in my life in learning to let go of the reigns.  Until recently, I've had a death grip on the reigns... and I've come dangerously close to steering my life right off a cliff.

the provider.

It's been one week at my new job with CaféWell, and I couldn't be happier.  While there is certainly a lot of work to be done, it's such a good fit and a phenomenal company, that I couldn't be more excited to get in the mix.

After discussing the Myers Briggs personality test with my committee over happy hour on Friday, I realized how much more analysis has been done on all of the personality combinations.  So I went back and took the test again, curious to see what my career matches looked like.  As I filled in the Yes and No bubbles, I started to get nervous.  What if my results are somehow different this time?  What if my ideal job comes back with "lawyer?"  What if... what if... what if...  

I am happy to report that everything is as it should be.  The results of the second test confirm my original "diagnosis" - ESFJ.  This makes me, what is referred to in the Myers Briggs world as, "The Provider."  As The Provider, I am part of the class of Guardians, and the analysis of my personality couldn't be more spot on.  The way I handle work stress also couldn't be more accurate:

The Provider is the most likely to first become angry, then sad and complain to anyone who will lend them an ear. This is quite different from their normal style of spreading happiness and making everyone around them comfortable. What triggers the stress is when others do not trust them or when they experience too much pressure to conform to a standard with which they do not agree. Interpersonal conflict with a boss, co-worker, or underling also takes a toll on the Provider's equilibrium. When stressed, they may become excessively logical and critical in their dealings with others. To return to normal, they will need less pressure from others and more solitude. Sometimes writing in a journal will help them with their sadness. They may need coaching in how to deal with adversity and decrease their need for harmonious relationships.

It's that need for harmonious relationships that drove me out of law.  When people have asked what I mean by "it's just not a good fit" - that's what I mean.  Right there.  I get stressed out when others do not trust me or when I feel extreme pressure to conform to a standard with which I disagree.  Aka:  the practice of law.  I am also easily stressed when relationships are not harmonious.  By nature, the practice of law is adversarial and relationships are the antithesis of harmonious.  No wonder I was so miserable.

I was also pleased to learn that my top career matches are in Management and Sales/Marketing... which is exactly my role with CaféWell.   There's something validating about answering 75 questions and essentially being told that I made the right decision in leaving law.


I was running through my normal blog circuit this morning, when I came across a recent post from The People's Therapist entitled The Provider.  It was validating in a different way.  Read it.  It's intense.  In just a year and a half, I felt myself become that version of "The Provider"... and resenting everyone in my life for it.  Reading that post was like the Ghost of Christmas Future paying me a visit, and it scared me.  

After more perusing on The People's Therapist, I discovered a comment from someone named Erin about how she barely knew herself anymore and knew she had to get out of law.  Erin's words resonated to my soul:


Erin

Sometimes the nice ones don’t leave but you don’t notice because they’re no longer the nice ones they were when they were first years. I left because I didn’t like the person I was becoming — entitled, impatient, unforgiving, full of self doubt. I was talking recently with a good friend who’s still at the firm, a lovely, sunny, sweet-to-a-fault southern girl, who said she needs to get out soon because “I don’t like the person I’m becoming.” I was already an overly serious, brusque Yankee when I started at the firm, but if that place can make even my sweet southern friend a b–ch, well, that’s a feat.

Entitled.  Impatient.  Unforgiving.  Full of self doubt.  That was me.  To a T, and I hated myself.  And while I won't be naive and say that those emotions automatically stayed behind when I walked out of office with my box full of stuff, I am hopeful that the time it takes for those emotions to dissipate will be infinitely shorter because of how quickly I nipped the whole law thing in the bud.  There has to be something akin to the rule of relationships: It takes half the amount of time you were with somebody to get over them.  I can only imagine that the longer one stays in law feeling entitled, impatient, unforgiving and full of doubt, the more those emotions begin to define her.  Or in other words, eventually you stop not recognizing yourself.

Because of the fact that I am the Myer's Briggs' definition of The Provider and could see myself turning into The People's Therapist version of The Provider if I were to stay in law, I am decidedly spending the afternoon basking in the relief of a good decision.