Businesswoman I am not
So since I’ve settled in in France I’ve started up a little business so that I can work from home and earn a bit of cash and not be entirely useless, and this is good. Or it was. Because now it’s getting serious, now work is coming in and reality is hitting home and panic is striking and something (that you will think is entirely stupid) is making me feel physically sick.
Because, while I have issues with self confidence that make it hard to work; I don’t believe I’m any good, my brain is forever telling me that I’m rubbish and making excuses as to why other people might say I’m good, that’s not what’s getting to me right now. What’s really getting to me right now is romance and my values.
See I have really set views on male/female relationships, and should I end up with a guy I want the 1950s lifestyle, I want him to have a fob watch and disagree with working women and enjoy having me at home raising his children and looking after him. And that man won’t marry me if I’m running a business. And that terrifies me. Really terrifies me.
By starting this up, by working to make it successful (which I will because that’s who I am), I am throwing away any chance of true happiness and success. Because for me a woman’s success in business is irrelevant. For me a successful woman is behind a successful man, but I need to survive until I find that man and I want to do it in a way that doesn’t compromise my chances of marrying him.
Of course I’m sure it would be easier if I believed I was any good at my job, and I’m sure plenty of you will tell me not to measure my worth by a man, but that’s how it is for me and it’s what I’ve always dreamed of and wanted and I feel like I am throwing it away. Like by doing this I’m making a choice to never be truly happy.
So I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between the frying pan and the fire. And right now I don’t see that I have a choice.