Desperately Seeking Something: Why Money and Being Loved Aren’t Enough
Exploring the Gap Between Being Loved and Feeling It
They said they couldn’t manage without me.
Well, surprise, surprise, it seemed that they somehow could manage without me. They didn’t have a role for me. Budget cuts, they said. My women’s business group wasn’t working out how I’d imagined, either. The group was a source of learning and support for me, but, unlike the other women in the group, I had not had any paid work offers and the monthly fees for membership were astronomical for my budget. I was making no money, just spending it; spending it on this monthly membership, and spending it on bi-weekly fees to my podcast editor. My podcast was growing slowly (I had been doing it for almost two years at that point) but the audience wasn’t big enough to have advertisers or sponsors.
I was doing it right, according to what I had heard from friends and from what I had read about in the “Thinking About Retirement?” section on my teachers’ association website. I was retiring TO something, not simply FROM something. I had done the steps. The financial situation was clear to me. It was going to be tight, but we agreed to downsize and buy a cheaper, smaller home farther out in the valley so we could manage on my not-quite-full pension. I was already well into plans to market myself as a speaker and writer in the area of wellness and social connections (which my work in my graduate studies, Masters and the school system was based on). My school district said they would have a job for me if I wanted a parttime position.
I was all set and was able to keep my chin up for several months of positive thinking. After nine months of corralling energy and plastering on a smile while my former colleagues checked in on me and how my new business venture was going, I faltered. After leaving my school district of 35 years, I plummeted into depression.
I wasn’t able to afford my expenses. I felt I was letting my husband down as I had adamantly told him that I wasn’t retiring from working at all: I was simply retiring from the school district and beginning work as an entrepreneur. I was embarrassed by the fact that it seemed clear that my own appraisal of my gifts and talents was obviously much higher than how anyone else saw them, as no one was clamouring to hire me, as I thought they would. And, I was lonely. Deeply lonely.
This sounded bizarre to my husband and some of my friends, because I had many deep friendships and I have very close relationships with my adult kids. “You know people love you”, my husband would say. “Look at all the friends you have.” And it was true. I did have many friends who’d check in with me weekly. My kids, often daily, especially my two daughters who live nearby. I knew I was loved. I could count the people who loved me. I heard them tell me. I saw them show me with their hugs and watery eyes and hand-holding and positive messages coming through daily and weekly by text and email. I knew I was loved, but I didn’t feel loved.
After about a year and a half into my retirement from teaching life, I completely crumbled. I was working my ass off every day, and it was like I was invisible.
My podcast episodes were not gaining traction even though I was so proud of the quality and the content on each one. On Linkedin, where I cross-posted my Substack writing, podcast episodes and also mini essays on social health, there would be few comments and little interaction. I was posting clever and heartfelt posts and reels on social media and learned about marketing from my business group and my own research, and I was writing every day on Substack, doing all the things we are supposed to do, and doing it with honesty and integrity. I thought, surely karma is on my side! I am genuinely caring about my, and other folks’ writing here! I am putting my heart and soul into this every day. Some good will come of it.
I was thoughtfully engaging with other writers’ Notes and recommending Substacks I admired and found inspiring, getting up a couple of hours earlier than I needed to so I could read as many of the Substacks I subscribed to as possible. I even invested in some paid subscriptions to show my support and to attempt to move myself into more of an “abundance” mindset rather than the looming “scarcity” one that I was feeling pulled toward – you know, the idea of you have to spend money to make money? I didn’t dare to tell my husband as he quietly knew my credit card balance was rising dramatically as I continued to shell out while nothing came in.
The Invisible Woman
My daughters urged me to go to therapy. They saw me struggling and losing energy. They knew that some days I had to force myself to get out of bed to face another day of what I saw as an embarrassingly clear reflection of my over-inflated ego. Since I have a history of anxiety and depression, my kids and husband were deeply concerned. It was strange: I had so much support. I reached out to my closest and they reached out to me. My husband and kids loved me so much. But I couldn’t get past this.
I wrote about these feelings in my Substack posts. I wrote about what can happen when we lose our roles or titles, and how difficult transition periods, like retirement, or adult kids leaving home, or losing a job or having a marriage end, can have us feel lost and without an identity. I know this stuff. I know well that we shouldn’t identify solely with what we do, because change is constant, and one day, we will lose those roles and those titles. I knew that. I teach others about that. I know well that instead, we should focus on who we ARE. Focus on BEING not DOING. We hear that all the time – and sometimes people hear it from me! It is true. But… how do we believe it? How do we feel that truth and truly embody it? Why didn’t I, who truly has this knowledge, feel it?
Even when I went to therapy, I remember during my third visit with this counsellor that I quite liked – about my age, and I felt many times that if we knew each other in “real life”, we’d likely be friends – she said to me, “Wow, you have so much good going on in your life.” I remember saying to her something like, ‘I know! That’s why I feel so crazy right now! I have no business feeling like this!”
It wasn’t a need for belonging. I did belong to many things: my family, my groups of friends. It wasn’t that I wasn’t loved, either. But in my day to day life, in the hours I spent writing at home, then walking my dog, reading, researching and preparing for my podcast, posting reels on social media … it just seemed like I was pushing out – giving – and nothing was coming in. The invisibility got to me. There was no reciprocity.
I truthfully started to wonder if I had been black-balled or cancelled on social media, and on LinkedIn, especially. I would post well-researched, carefully crafted pieces there and get not one interaction. Sometimes my friend Sharon would give a thumbs-up to my pieces, and comment, but that was it. I felt kind of unraveled and laid bare. I wasn’t intertwined in anyone’s daily lives. It was just me, on my own, and I guess the best way to try and describe what I felt was that what did it all matter if no one was being affected by me and what I was doing. Coming from a life of teaching and working in community with families and newcomers in which I saw and felt the difference I was making in the lives of the people I was working with, this part of my life felt truly meaningless. Really, what did it matter if I was working so hard but no one was being affected? Or, if no one was even seeing it? Why did my work matter? Why did I matter?
“Mattering occurs in life’s big moments, like being celebrated with heartfelt toasts by friends. It’s found in everyday moments, too, like when you’re sick and a friend brings over a pot of homemade soup. The feeling that hits you when you open the door is mattering, that you are deeply valued by your friend and worthy of love and support. “
Dr. Jennifer Breheny Wallace
Despite this growing despair, there were times in my week that I felt really happy. It was interesting to me when I noticed that through my journalling, and I took a long hard look at when I felt best and what I was doing at those times. I realized that the times I felt at my best and even my happiest, was when I was with my dad. I brought dinner to my dad every other day and visited with him for a few hours. My sister and I took turns doing this. It was an obligation we were both dedicated to, as he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few years ago, and with my mom having died just after that time, he needed our support in order to continue living in their condo.
Reciprocity
I realized that when I was with him, beside him as he pushed his walker past the shops, on our way to the little grocery store two blocks away, that’s when I felt my most content. It wasn’t that I was thinking to myself when it was one of my “dad days”, “Oh, yay! I get to stop my writing, put my dog in her crate, drive 30 minutes to my dad’s and stay there for 4 hours and sit with him as he watches the golf channel, do his laundry, maybe dust and take down his recyclables to the parkade and get home 7 or 7:30. Yippee!”, but it was more about how I felt when I was there, and how I felt afterward.
Driving home from my dad’s I noticed I was lighter and happier. I felt that good kind of tired we feel after we know we’ve done a good job on something, put lots of effort in, and there’s not an ounce of resentment about doing that hard work. I felt how we feel when we are happy to do a difficult job because it means something to us, like when we cook for a friend who has a relative in the hospital, or we come together as neighbours to shovel snow to clear the road and sidewalks for each other.
And, I also felt what I’d have to describe as warmth, or even love. This warmth came from the barber shop owner who consistently smiled at us and waved as we walked by his windowed shop. It was how the grocery store clerks knew my name and how, if I ever went in there without my dad, they’d always ask after him: “Is your dad alright?”, “Say hi to him for me.”, “Tell him we miss him.”
And, I felt the warmth from my dad. His smile when I arrived. His thank you’s for making him his favourite dinner (I’m lucky his favourite is a grilled cheese sandwich!), or for folding his laundry. He almost always called out to me as I was leaving, after we kissed goodbye and he clarified when he’d see me next: “Thank you for all you do for me.”
I felt connected to everyone around me as I walked with my dad in his neighbourhood, or even if I was on my own on the rainier days, as dad preferred to wait at home, watching the golf channel while I picked up the ginger ale or Kleenex or peanut butter he had run out of.
Our daily walks and interactions with the owners and customers had allowed us to form ties with almost many of the regulars on the street and it is incredibly energizing and comforting when, in the length of one city block, you receive a warm wave, a hello or a brief exchange about the weather, about a new haircut, about what plans are for the upcoming weekend.
There was that precious reciprocity that was missing.
I felt known, and seen and that I was doing something important. I was doing something that mattered and what I was doing was being a caring daughter. And in this space and with these people, I was seen as simply me: seen as Gayle who belonged to this neighbourhood and this community, who cared for her dad, and I felt that belonging and acceptance and love. I felt it.
I realized that although I had people in my life who loved and respected me and would text me and phone me to remind me of this, it was the frequent, even daily, face-to-face connections and in-person interactions and intertwining of lives that allowed me to feel that love, not simply just know it.
“Importantly, mattering can be self-generated. You can enhance your own sense of having value by giving to others. Our most valuable resource is our time but giving some of it to others through activities such as volunteering, coaching, and mentoring will benefit the recipients and ourselves. If you do so, you will also be a great role model for the people in your life.”
Dr. Gordon Flett
It was when I was in service to others that I felt my best. Coming from a three-decades-plus long career in teaching and working in different roles at public community schools, I was used to being in positions of service to others, and I hadn’t accounted for this in my retirement picture and plans. I was so focussed on making money in the private sector in this new phase of my life, that I forgot about the fulfillment that comes from being in regular and frequent service to others.
Give a Little Bit
I set out to do more of this thing that filled me up. I made sure my daughter knew that every Thursday was her day. She could count on me to be there to babysit my grandson while she did whatever was helpful to her: doing some chores or errands or getting some of her work done on her laptop. She works from home, or tries to, as much as one does when one has an active three year old.
I contacted a local beekeeping business and educational centre and began volunteering there. I wrote a few paragraphs explaining my teaching background, my desire to be more connected to my own community, that I had just moved into the neighbourhood, and that I had a deep love of nature. They were thrilled that I reached out. I said that I could do whatever they needed me to do: help out in their retail store (I used to be a window dresser I told them, and had worked in retail), do their gardening or help with planning and creating curriculum.
I arranged some neighbourhood block parties so I could meet my neighbours and hopefully then, increase the likelihood of even brief, simple, frequent interactions, as I knew I was missing my former neighbourhood and the chats and hellos I’d enjoy on my daily dog walks. Here, I knew no one and I needed to change that. I also knew I needed to feel more connected to my neighbourhood: I wanted a third place – a place I could frequent, maybe see more familiar faces when I went there, and even simply to be in the energy and buzz of others (no pun intended re the beekeeping centre, but you’ll see in a moment there is an exciting outcome regarding that).
Slowly, I started to feel a difference.
“Choosing intrinsic values—like investing in friendships, neighbors, or volunteer groups—has been found to sustain our happiness and well-being in a way that pursuing extrinsic goals, like higher income or higher status in a career, doesn’t.”
Dr. Jennifer Breheny Wallce
One of the best things that happened through this experience has been that I now see this phase as a phase in which I truly matter to my family and my community, not because of my level of success or my titles, but just for being myself. I am dedicated to giving my time and strengths to them.
In my community, I am now employed at the honeybee business! It turns out, they were looking for a teacher, and someone who could help build community there. They couldn’t believe it when I showed up. Now, I am Beekeeper Gayle, or Mrs. Bee, as my husband calls me (and interestingly, has called me for the 20 years we have been married), and I’ve taken the Beekeeping course. I am teaching super fun, interactive fieldtrip sessions about all the fun bee facts, like how many eggs the queen lays a day, the waggle dance (of course we make the kids and teachers do it!), how honey is made, pollination basics, the jobs of the female worker bees (no surprise – sorry guys – the females do all the work of the hive) when classes come to the Honeybee Centre (it only takes me 12 minutes to walk there), and this Spring, we start planning a new interactive, outdoor community space there so it can truly be the hub of community – just my jam – or should I say, honey;)
I am now, officially, intertwined.
I found my sea legs (or my bee wings) and can say with surety that no matter how successful we are, how many paid gigs we have on the horizon, how thriving our self-worth is, if we are not including serving others – whether it be regularly supporting our own young kids or other close family, or volunteering for an organization, or mentoring someone in the community – we will feel a spectre of something, that no amount of status or money will fill. We are meant to be in community and to be living interdependently. To be intertwined.
You are the 🐝 bee’s knees❣️
I needed this more than I knew I needed this. Thank you. For reals.