Reinvention

How do I reinvent myself?

There is no doubt that I have to do this. My career in the motion picture business, which I thought would be the one to see me through a comfortable life to a financially secure retirement, fell apart in the early '90s. By then I was already a mature woman, not quite over the hill but old enough to recognize that the people coming up behind me were young and energetic and enthusiastic (read: naive) in a way I could never again be.

I'd been at it for twelve years on two coasts, held on for another eight hoping against hope that it would turn around, would once again bear fruit. It didn't. My contacts dried up, and although I fought to develop new ones I couldn't. The work dried up, too. For awhile there were fewer films, fewer hour-long dramas, fewer pilots because the industry changed, became more corporate. Although production eventually picked up, by then it was too late for me. I'd been out of work, out of the loop too long.

I was depressed and angry and resentful and getting older, falling behind the advancements in technology, the know-how of the work. The last few jobs I had were frightening; I felt as if everything I knew was worthless and that, consequently, so was I.

I tried to turn things around, fell back on a skill I developed when I was starting out: Fitness Training. I actually parlayed this into a decent career, developed a modest clientele. I got certified, became a competitive bodybuilder (a short-lived endeavor, but an exciting one that taught me a lot about training techniques, nutrition, biology, body chemistry, biomechanics -- all the things that make a good trainer better). I worked 20-30 hours per week, a relief from the 75-90 hours I'd put in every week as an Assistant Director. It began to seem I could have a life.

I was wrong.

I was bored. Life on the set may, at times, be the same old same old, but it is never boring. There is always something to do: Wait for an actor to emerge from makeup, prepare a call sheet for the following day, wrap up the production report from yesterday, remind people to be quiet because we're rolling. There's always someone to talk to: A crew member, a background player, a Producer or Production Manager, even another Assistant Director.

As a trainer, I was only busy when I was with a client. When my clients were gone and my own workouts were complete I had nothing to do. Go home, eat lunch, maybe take a nap until it was time to go back to the gym for the second shift of the day. At first it was great, but not for long. I needed something more.

I went to school. It was a way to fill up the time, make use of those midday hours, stimulate my brain, round out my discipline. Study gave me something to do on the weekends, which were suddenly filled with too many empty hours. Reading and writing and 'rithmetic gave me purpose. I didn't know where it was going or if it was going anywhere, but it felt good to be busy, to have a full life.

Eventually it did go somewhere. It led me to an elite university, where I completed my BA in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing.

I've been reading since I was three-years-old, and thoughout my life I've found solace in books, fascination with the places I could go and the people I could meet without leaving the comfort of a soft chair. (Once, when I was ten, I nearly burned down the apartment cooking spaghetti because I was so involved in a book that I was unaware that the water had boiled down and the apartment was filled with smoke! I still remember the book's title, "Hakon of Rogen's Saga," though the narrative eludes me.)

I immediately went on to graduate school, earning a Masters degree in Professional Writing two years later. I wrote a novel, an incomplete one-act play, several articles. People at grad school assured me I'd get published. Not yet. In fact, I had more success with publication before I went to university, let alone grad school, than I've had since then. Go figure.

Recently, I wrote some web content for two different sites. So, now I'm a paid writer again, but it isn't enough work to support or fulfill me. The fitness career slowly disintegrated during my years of study. I began teaching in grad school. As much as I like Academia, I'm not all that thrilled about teaching. Maybe if I taught something other than freshman composition it would be different -- maybe not. Besides, teaching part-time is a thankless task. The pay is lousy, there are no guarantees of employment from semester to semester, and the amount of work required to teach even one course is mind boggling. I think I started teaching too late.

So, there's no question that I have to reinvent myself -- again -- have to find a way to make it through however many years I have left before I draw my final breath. I don't want to be a celebrity, don't want to be filthy rich. What I want is my dignity: Enough money to pay my rent and other bills; see some movies and an occasional play; eat good, healthy food; maybe take a vacation once a year or so. I want time to write, and not just for my blog but for publications. I have something to say, and I need a venue for it.

Life is never easy, and it certainly isn't any easier for a woman of a certain age. The world is so youth-centric. That's nothing new, but it's so in our faces these days in a way it never was before. Ironically, the baby boomers are hitting retirement age and they are living longer with (generally) more disposable income than the average youngster. Yet the world doesn't cater to us or our needs. It doesn't even recognize us. We are resisted or ignored in nearly every facet of life.

Can a woman of a certain age succeed at reinvention against such odds?