The Career Girl

She got in and shut the door. Her journey home from the hospital tonight had been surprisingly easy. The train had been less full and she had been able to read a little of the book her sister had bought her for Christmas. She hadn't been able to pick it up for weeks.

It had been a productive day. A number of surgeries, all of which had gone well so she had delivered good news all throughout her day. The faces of family members as they bloomed with the news that it had been a success, that their loved one was doing well, the hugs and the "thank you, Doctor, thank you!" that were uttered so effusively, made her feel appreciated and rewarded for her diligence and hard work.

But also a little lost.

This is what it's all about, she told herself as she walked from a noisy waiting room, punctuated with the laughter of relief and shared joy and washed by tears of gladness. They were so full, those waiting rooms.

Usually, she didn't have time to think because she was moving, moving, moving all the time. Her job required her to be present always. When you're holding a scalpel in front of the stark red tangle of someone's insides, framed in bright blue and highlighted by surgery searchlights, you didn't let your mind wander. Not unless you wanted those waiting rooms to be full of distress. Not unless you wanted disappointment. Not if you wanted everything that you had worked for, sacrificed your life for to disappear.

Silence.

That's what she came home to. Yes, she could hear the street noise and neighbours above and below; there were signs of life all around.

But not in here.

Initially, she had been grateful for the quiet. Now, she felt its vacuum in the emptiness of her apartment and in the cavity formed by loneliness in her chest.

She would not cry. It had always been career first and her pride in that sustained her. Her friends had more balance - partners, kids, hobbies - but in her view, less success.

Tired, she tried to suppress the fear that she had prioritised the wrong thing.

***

366 words

I've never prioritised a career because I'm not ambitious. However, I feel for the women who do want a career but also want the other joys of life. This is not meant to be an anti-feminist story about the virtues of partner and kids but it is inspired by something I saw on the TV about a doctor who was now in their thirties, had attained success and stability in her field but was left with nothing else in other parts of her life, and she was desperately seeking love - something else to complement her working life. She was emotional about it and I thought I would explore that here, that needing to sacrifice that part of life in order to gain success in the other.

This is a factor in some people's existences and I like to think about how I'd feel if I were them.

Like a writer would.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it, please do leave a comment as I do love to interact with my readers.

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