I found a job as an Events Coordinator in a Country Club shortly after my failed interview with the airline, decided I wasn’t really cut out to be a stewardess and put aside my childish dreams. I had after all just graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English and owed it to my mom to put my degree to good use.
Though the pay seriously sucked, my first proper job allowed me the opportunity to produce marketing material and be actively involved in the publication of a bi-monthly magazine. Something I wanted to do at that time.
It wasn’t another 5 years later that I decided to give the airline one more chance. I was then in my second career as a Personal Trainer and had just returned from a 10 day holiday with my mom to the United States.
I should explain that I had a minor quarter life crisis 2 years into my first job, broke up with my then-boyfriend and decided that I didn’t want to work in a dead-end office job anymore. I remember feeling like a rat on a wheel. Running fast but going nowhere.
After the first year, everything had become repetitive and tiresome. Worse of all, I was transferred from the clubhouse near my house to another which was 1.5 hrs away. That, was the last straw.
My ex-bosses persuaded me to stay by assuring me that the grass was not really greener on the other side and that nothing beat having an iron rice bowl (no matter how small the bowl was). No talk of pay increment but in all honesty, I don’t think I would have stayed even if there was.
Since I was working out at the gym almost daily (during my lunch hour or after work at the clubhouse gym) and enjoying it, it seemed like a good idea to be a Personal Trainer. I went for a certification course and without a backward glance, jumped headlong into the fitness industry. I took a pay cut initially but I never doubted my decision. There weren’t many female trainers and I started building up a client base. After a couple of months, my income more than doubled.
I stayed for 3 years. While I loved the vibrant and energetic working environment in the gym, I still hated being stuck on this shitty island. I felt like a bird trapped in a cage. I wanted to fly but my wings were clipped.
My frustration was amplified when I came back from my US vacation. I remembered my childhood dream of working and living abroad and felt miserable about my own predicament. I needed a change in environment and even went as far as to try applying for personal training positions in Australia, America and… the Middle East. That was how desperate I was.
I also realized I wasn’t getting any younger and knew that if I got any older, I would never again have an opportunity to work for my national carrier. Of course, getting a job in the airline was not exactly considered as working and living abroad but at least I would get to travel often and not be stuck here all the time.
Fuelled by these thoughts, fears and dreams, I started seriously preparing for the interview. Soon, it became clear that this was a journey I had to take alone. No one felt I was cut out to be a stewardess. My childhood friend who had a short stint in the airline advised me against it, and assured me that I would hate it. My mom didn’t think I was good enough. I couldn’t count on anyone for support or encouragement.
Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t care what anyone thought. I told myself that even if I didn’t make it, at least I tried right? And that was billion times better than moping.
No comments:
Post a Comment