A compromising situation

Recently writing a very short synopsis of my career dredged up some unwelcome but familiar feelings. Fear, dread, inadequacy and a bit more fear.

Almost two years ago I gave up a job I loved for the person I love. When it comes to my working life, that is the troublesome sentence. We moved from Sydney to Oxford for my husband to complete a masters degree. Writing that now I'm acutely aware the move involved some sacrifice. Back then, I didn't gave it a moment's thought. 


Somehow in the whirlwind of my husband being offered a place here, organising the logistics of the move and celebrating our wedding, while working in my busy and beloved job, it didn't dawn on me that I was walking on perilous ground. I didn't anticipate a difficult road.

I'm not sure if it was denial, naivety or not having much time to think about it. Possibly all three, but in any case, my expectations were off the mark.  


When this opportunity arose I was thrilled. For my husband, for me and, especially, for us. We had talked about living overseas for years and this seemed like the most perfect reason to do it.

When he was accepted, I felt lucky. We were embarking hand-in-hand on an exciting adventure, taking up an opportunity too good to pass up, together. That it was not my opportunity – at least not in a day-to-day sense - escaped me.

Sure I cried while writing my resignation letter. It was addressed to the wonderfully kind and talented editor who eighteen months earlier had gone out on a limb and given me the job of my dreams. Sure it was the job that pulled me from the wreckage of a career-crisis. Yes, it made the ideal of sustaining an interesting and satisfying career with a full and satisfying life, seem a fait accompli.


But there's more to life than work so I handed that letter in, without any sense of the ominous times ahead. My ignorance was bliss until reality delivered a rude awakening.

I spent month upon month building up a healthy collection of letters thanking me for applying for various positions and kindly letting me know that I would not be interviewed, let alone needed.

In theory, I know rejection letters from recruiters and prospective employers are not a great yardstick to measure one's identity by. I know I shouldn't take it personally. I know we are all so much more than the job we do. But my god not having a job left a lot of free time to wonder. In weaker moments, it was hard not to conclude the worst.

Especially in a city whose residents are among the most driven in the world, conquering their professional dreams one degree at a time, whilst simultaneously running charitable foundations, taking part in triathlons and being frustratingly personable, social and well-adjusted individuals.

Aside from mourning my old job I just desperately wanted something to do. Not because of a burning desire to be successful but because being productive makes me happy, whereas being idle certainly wasn't.

Around this time I learned of a label for people like me – as in people who have followed, or regularly follow, the one they love around the world. We're called Trailing Spouses. Isn't that nice? Especially when you read the research showing us "trailing spouses" forgo career advancement, experience diminished happiness and suffer early, painful deaths. That last bit is made up but it's not a pretty picture.

My time here could have been different. I don't believe moving for your other half's job necessarily dictates prolonged unemployment*. I'm sure many trailing spouses arrive at their new destinations and achieve personal career success. For me, that didn't happen.

Despite too many downhearted moments where unemployment felt like it might become a permanent state of affairs, I eventually realised this is a temporary arrangement. And a rather special one at that.

Achieving that clarity certainly wasn't the easiest of hurdles to clear. And, as I realised when those familiar feelings of fear and inadequacy developed when I recently wrote about my career-break, it's one I still occasionally bump.

The arrival of our baby markedly changed my daily existence. I no longer had the free time to navel gaze and I had a very clear purpose. But there was enough time prior to her arrival for me to really ponder the sacrifice - which is how I considered it for a while - of coming here.

This was a choice we made together. I was complicit in the process. I just didn't realise at the time exactly what I was doing. I now know how difficult it is to give up a job you adore for a person you adore. Really difficult.

But even more complicated is the alternative. Because one doesn't supplant the other. I wouldn't have been remotely happy living back in Sydney without my husband, even with my dream job. But living with my husband, without anything to do, wasn't ideal either.

Combining two careers and a family into a single existence does not strike me as a straightforward exercise. I suspect it is - and might always be - the ultimate work in progress for many romantic partnerships. If anyone has tips I'd love to hear them.

For me, learning to reconcile the day-to-day with the bigger picture was critical. Taking a long term view of both marriage and my working life also helped. I now regard this less as a personal sacrifice and more as a large investment in our joint venture. For a moment then did it sound like I work in banking?? 

As naïve as my initial excitement might have been, this has been a chapter in our lives that I wouldn't trade for anything. I didn't feel that way initially. At times I would have traded it for anything.

But with time it's been responsible for countless memories, friendships, trials and milestones I will never forget. As it draws to a close I'm keenly aware of the place these two years will always occupy in my head and heart. Even if the place they occupy on my CV is blank. It's been a worthy compromise.

*I did some temping work throughout my pregnancy, which in addition to keeping me semi-occupied, gave me an invaluable insight to the UK's economy. Specifically it's failings. I will describe some of these wonderful experiences in detail in future posts.