“So what are you going to do?” my husband demands.
“What do you think you want to do?” all my friends ask.
I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for almost 13 years now. I’m not completely out of the loop, but not really in the “working” groove either. Don’t get me wrong, I work. I work my goddamn ass off, but I don’t get paid.
Like a lot of moms, I feel underappreciated and get very little respect for what I do. But now facing divorce, I need to figure out what I need to do to make money so I can support a household and my two boys.
I went to college many years ago and got a B.S. in Textiles, Apparel and Merchandising. After that, I went to Cosmetology school, which turned out to be my true calling. I’ve always enjoyed making people look their best. I love to look beyond the exterior and find their inner beauty – and then tease that out through their hair.
Now I’ve decided that I want to do that with eyelashes. I know that sounds a little crazy, but think about it: all those clichés about the eyes — the windows to the soul, what the eye does not admire the heart does not desire – they’re all true.
I researched this for months. I weighed all my options. I looked at all of the companies that provide “Eyelash Extensions” services. There aren’t a lot and after much deliberation it was time to pick the best one.
Convincing my spouse was the hard part. I had to justify more than $1,000 tuition, which was just for learning the ropes (and not even for any sort of certification or supplies). He insisted that I sell stuff on eBay to support this venture, which was the full extent of his support.
Deep down inside, I knew this was a passion I needed to follow. If I was going to finally break away from this bad marriage, this was the way to do it, to say nothing of also finding something I love and to be paid for it at the same time. I was willing to do just about anything.
So I listed things on eBay and sold old magazines, toys and a bunch of other silly stuff around the house until I finally made enough money to purchase the training. Just doing that made me feel like I had some control of my life.
A few weeks later, my husband and youngest son drove me to downtown Chicago, where I would start training for my new vocation. We had dinner together and my son sensed that something was about to be different. He cried throughout dinner and no matter how much I reassured him that everything would be okay, he just wouldn’t be consoled. I had them drop me off at a small hotel where we all said good night. I drank a bottle of wine that evening and thought about my future.
The next morning, I got on the train for the first time by myself. I had been on trains in Boston and New York by myself before, but this was the first time I had ever done it in Chicago, despite having lived in a town just 35 miles away. I know that may not make much sense to you, but that’s just the way I’ve lived my life. Getting on that train meant that I was finally entering a new phase of my life – all by myself.
I had finally found what I wanted to do with my life.
I found the hotel.
I found the train by myself.
And all of it scared the hell out of me.
And I’m still scared. I’m finished with the training and I’m now trying to build a business and I know it’s going to take a while and a lot of hard work before anything pans out. But I also know that I will succeed. I have perfect confidence in this.
I can’t explain that last statement other than I am finally starting to believe in myself.
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