I went to the bank today to change some info, move some money, (OK! OK!  and get overdraft protection because sometimes I’m a flake!).  While we were filling out the application for overdraft protection, the customer service person asked me about my job.  My job.  I told him I left my job in Australia to move back to Kansas City, but that my husband was still working.  His response? ‘Oh I’ll just put you down as a housewife then.’ Housewife. But I’m an Urban Designer!  I had a career!  I made money!  Now what am I?

One of the (many) reasons for quitting my job was getting away from defining myself through my job.  And my first experience with a new label?  I didn’t take it so well.  I have a long way to go.

Oh, and the customer service guy said the alternative in the system was ‘domestic engineer.’ Nope.  Not helping.


3 thoughts on “Title

  1. Titles are one of the ways that the world tries to define us (place in its own categorical box). We may, or hopefully don’t, also choose our own “box-titles” to define ourselves. I hereby reject all titles the world chooses to box me in,……except…….maybe….. “God seeker”, “husband”, “Dad”, “brother”, “son”, “engineer”, “boss”, “good driver”, “handsome stud”,…….. Oh, good grief! We have met the enemy, and he is me!….

    Don’t let the world’s labels hinder you from being the wonderful person that you are…..

  2. at times like these, inject humour into it: ‘homeopathic meter maid’ or ‘board licensed toenail clipper’ might have gone over well for you both. 😀

  3. Pingback: When I Grow Up « A Year Off

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