As a child, my aspiration was to work at Blockbuster; all I wanted to do was sort through videos and be surrounded by the smell of popcorn and new release excitement. Unfortunately for me, Blockbuster closed down before I could begin my career alphabetizing VHS tapes and DVDs. When I was 14 years old I decided I would be a school social worker. I’m not sure from where this idea was born, but it likely had something to do with my parents both working in the field of education.
I graduated from my undergraduate college program in the winter, and for the semester until summer I was a substitute teacher to give myself some structure and make some extra money before graduate school. I learned that I did not, in fact, want to work full time in a school. Teaching was enjoyable, but my time there taught me that this was not the population for me — I was missing a spark. Still, social work sounded right.
At this point I was curious about entering the field of eating disorders, having been through my own journey and healing. To be sure that my goal in doing so was not purely selfish, I volunteered on a helpline and began speaking in schools and was able to separate my history from the people before me — those I was hoping to support.
I volunteered at an eating disorder day treatment program, one week after it opened the summer before graduate school. I was thrilled to be getting in on the ground level. As time passed, I moved from volunteer to intern and eventually became a clinical staff member once I was licensed as a therapist.
I received the message, from colleagues, social media and in passing, that if we’re passionate about what we do, we’ll never work a day in our lives. I have been discussing this recently with clients and also individuals in my personal life — this belief that if we love what we do, we’ll never feel like we’re working, and the impact this has on us.
First and foremost, we may work for different reasons. For most of us, this is likely because we need to earn money to support ourselves and families. Working does not feel like a choice; it is a necessity. For some people working may be a decision, if perhaps there is someone else who can support that individual/family unit. And then there is the type of work. Some people enter a field because of the work-life balance or the salary or an interest in the work itself, or perhaps all of the above. But to say that we don’t feel like we’re working if we love what we do sets an expectation that someone should experience a stress-free work life so long as it is the “right” career.
This expectation, I believe, tends to set us up for failure. Yes, there are people who may hate what they do with a passion and perhaps a change could be considered. Or maybe not; maybe that person must continue to perform that job because of financial need or difficulty finding a job. There is an extreme where we can recommend a person revisit his or her career choice if miserable. And, many people are not miserable but do feel stress, even when they thoroughly enjoy their work. Because it is work. It can include growth and enjoyment and a type of fulfillment that is difficult to describe. And it can also be hard, even grueling. Whether this relates to interpersonal dynamics or glass ceilings, poor benefits or challenges from the type of work being completed, loving it does not mean it will not be tough.
A relationship can be beautiful and likely include conflict and growth curves and struggle. Telling two people that if they are in love they will never feel like the relationship is work is a fallacy; relationships typically require some level of investment and learning about, for, and from one another. Love does not mean that it is all joyous all the time.
But love in a relationship or interest in a job can make the hardship feel “worth it.” Enjoying your work can lead to motivation to continue onward. People are not all privileged to enjoy what they do and telling someone to chase a dream can be short-sighted, not making space for why that may not be possible or easy for so many.
I truly love what I do — and it is also my job. I think sorting through tapes at Blockbuster would have fulfilled a part of me and I probably would have also had many moments, if not days, when I wanted to be doing something different. We can find fulfillment in our work and also need to decompress, set boundaries and take care of ourselves. I hope, dear reader, that you have the opportunity to engage in work that feels fulfilling or serves a purpose. So whether it’s Blockbuster, teaching, psychotherapy or any and all in between, I hope you feel the spectrum of experiences that come with working, and that you know that it is not so all or nothing when it comes to the workforce — and to love.
Temimah Zucker, LCSW, works in New York and New Jersey with individuals ages 18 and older who are struggling with mental health concerns, and specializes in working with those looking to heal their relationships between their bodies and souls. Temimah is an adjunct professor at the Wurzweiler School of Social Work, an advocate and public speaker concerning eating disorder awareness, and a Metro-New York consultant at Monte Nido. To learn more or to reach her, visit www.temimah.com.