Good news came early

Let me start from the beginning.

A year and a half ago I was stuck in a rather shitty place. One where I knew I wanted—no, needed!—a change, but had no idea what it should look like exactly. All I knew was that I couldn’t go on like this. It had to end. So I ended it. I quit my job having zero plans for the following steps.

Then, slowly, the old shitty place turned into a new, a different one. I’ve been between jobs (unemployed for the most part) for the past 18 months.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven't been a sad lump the entire time. I've had a lot of fun, I've slept soooo much! I found my way to Vocal, which was definitely one of the best things that came out of it. I’m really grateful for the whole experience because, as bumpy as the road has been, in the end it led me to where I am today. And that's what matters.

However, there has been an annoying bug in the back of my brain nagging me the entire time. Making sure I haven't forgotten that I still have no job or even an idea of what to do with my life in general.

For the past ten years I worked as a baker and a pastry chef. But being a professional baker unfortunately goes hand in hand with night shifts. The pastries needed to be ready by 7 a.m. when people were rushing to the offices and wanted to grab a lovely cinnamon bun to go, which meant I had to start preparing them at least three hours earlier.

For years, my day started with an alarm at 3.15 a.m., which again meant that I had to be in bed by 7—by 8 at the latest—the night before. That forced me to skip so many events and family gatherings just to be able to function the next day. My relationships suffered, my hobbies suffered, my health suffered.

I was either asleep, thinking of having to go to sleep or thinking of how I'm not going to get enough sleep. And with all that, I was still tired every single day. All that nonsense messed up my sleep pattern so much that even though my life circled around sleep, I still couldn't actually sleep when I was supposed to. I got terrible anxiety. I didn’t have any energy whatsoever. I was drained all the time. Not quite dead, but definitely not living.

For a few months after quitting I just slept. Actually slept. And enjoyed it.

I kept baking for friends and family. (During the day only!) Until one day a friend asked me if I’d be up to giving a personal baking lesson to his mom who loved baking, but had been struggling with getting some pastries right. He wanted to give the lesson as a Christmas gift to his mom. I agreed.

Little did I know that friend and his mom would be the start of me figuring out what I want to do next.

Soon after came my own mother’s friend asking if I’d be willing to host a workshop for her and some of her girlfriends.

Word spread and that led me to hosting five more baking workshops. And I realised how much I loved it. I loved putting together the materials for the participants. I loved explaining the science behind the recipe. I loved explaining the why’s and the how’s. I loved seeing the clarity on my students' faces that my words and explanations had brought about. I loved when they texted me two days later, over the moon with the results, because they finally got that pastry right on their own. I looked at the pictures they'd sent me and something clicked in me.

I'd given these people something they can actually use. I'd given them new knowledge and a new skill. Something nobody can take away. And that made me feel amazing.

I realized I could incorporate baking into my life a different way. In a way I’d never thought of before. So I started digging around, and before I realized it, I’d sent an application to a university to become a teacher of vocational training. Again, before I knew it, I’d passed the first round and I was driving to the interview.

The candidate whose interview was before mine came out of the office, white as a ghost, as if she was about to throw up. For a second there I thought, "Should I be scared too?" But before I could finish the thought they invited me in.

And... it was just a pleasant conversation—in which I did most of the talking which I assume was a good thing—that seemed to have gone by in five minutes not twenty. The questions were easy and exactly what I expected them to be, the four members of the committee seemed all very nice and lovely people. We talked, we laughed and then they told me I was free to go.

I came out smiling. I knew I’d simply done what was needed to get what I already knew was meant for me.

I was prepared to wait a week to get the confirmation of what I already knew in my heart.

To my surprise, instead of having to wait 'til Friday, I got an email yesterday:

"Dear Cristal,

we are delighted to inform you...yadayadayada."

And as it turns out, I can add a Vocal challenge win to my list of wins this week! (Thanks, Paul, for letting me know!)

Anyway, I'm off to pop the champagne and eat strawberries! 🍾🥂 🍓