As you may have gathered from the title of this blog, I am a perfectionist and I would by lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge the huge role that work plays in my life and my overall feeling of well-being as a person. In fact, I lie to myself regularly about this, because I don’t like this fact about myself. However, if I’m being honest (and the creation of this blog, for me, is a pledge to myself to cut through all the people-pleasing, perfectionist bullshit that is constantly running through my mind and distill my thoughts down into what I–ME–I truly feel about things), my feeling of self-worth is tied inextricably into my work and my gratification comes through recognition of others and being right.

Just recently, I was named the president of my company, and have been the chief operating officer for about four years now. I work for a for-profit association in a fast-growing, intensely watched industry that has the unending interest of investors, the government (and various state governments), and the public. About 10 years ago, I was the editor in chief of a B2B publication after climbing the ladder from editorial assistant, and I was asked to join a startup association. At the time, this was a huge gamble since I was pretty much set where I was at, but I was also underpaid (starting as an editorial assistant at the same company will do that to you) and not challenged, and I was ready to make a move that would make me more money and give me more leverage in my career to continue to make more money.

My husband has what I call a “passion career.” Although he works harder on it than anyone I know and he is equally driven by success and gratification and work, his career is just one that is incredibly low paying, and the burden of financial success has, for the large duration of our marriage, been on my shoulders. This isn’t a point of contention in our marriage, it’s just a fact. He loves what he does, he is amazing at what he does, and he won’t be doing anything else if he can help it. Me, on the other hand, when I see an opportunity and I have measured the risk of going for it and it pans out, I’ll go for it. I’ve always been in charge of the money and was tired of not being able to sleep for fear of a car having a mechanical problem or a kid needing to go to the ER.

I was approached to join a startup for-profit association by the visionary that started the business. He is a visionary and saw that what he started really had legs, but didn’t have the business or logistics acumen to get it off the ground. That is why he sought me out. It was a huge gamble by me, but I’m cocky enough to realize that success or failure hinged on my ability and I believed in my ability. It was my chance to break through the lower middle class bubble I was trapped in, so I took it. And very long story short, it worked out.

Now I am the president of that company (I will write a blog about the debacle of getting that title … and acknowledgement that was about three years too late), and I am leading a team of 30+ while growing the business and maintaining the success we have forged in our space.

I am stressed out literally all the time, but there are also times I get extreme joy out of my job. When I have helped put the pieces of a puzzle together, when I see women who came into our company very young grow and start forging their own path, when I look at our low turnover rates. I like making their lives a little better by trying to make their work life not suck so bad, if I can help it. I also just like winning. I love winning. I like it when a plan comes together, when it works out, when it started in my brain and becomes something amazing.

As I write this, I am in the middle of a huge project, I have to shave my legs because I have a lunch meeting followed by a dinner that I have to leave for, I have to make a carrot cake and wrap presents for my mom’s 71st birthday that we are celebrating on Friday (I should be in La Jolla to host an exhausting weekend event on Friday, but said I was coming late to celebrate my mom’s birthday) and leaving for La Jolla first flight out on Saturday morning, where I will be until Monday morning. Working. On my feet. On my game. I will also miss S’s Homecoming and the baby blue suit he bought to wear to it. He says he doesn’t care, doesn’t even want me there, but I do and I want to be there. I told the CEO that next year, his senior year, I was going to skip out when I need to to be there for all of his things. (Guiltguiltguilt. Sadnesssadnesssadness.) In my defense, he wasn’t even sure he was going until Sunday of this week, so I was too committed to the work event to back out … I honestly would have if it wasn’t going to put every on the team out.) BTW, it’s Wednesday. There are also all the normal things that have to be done and I know dinners and a trip to La Jolla this sounds fancy and lovely, but I swear to you, I crave Hamburger Helper instead of another fancy salmon dish; I crave my chair at home with a glass of wine, and my husband, and my kids, and my dogs.

And the circus continues.