If you were a child of the mid-2000s to early 2010s, and don’t understand my title reference: shame on you.
I’m almost done with my internship in Atlanta, and in the last week of June, I learned (very giddily) where I’ll be heading next. The call with the recruiter for that company went something like this, since you’re obviously so curious:
Uma: …hello?
Recruiter: Hi, is this Uma?
Uma: …Yes? (At this point I still thought this was an AI “steal-your-voice” type scam call, but as a journalist, I do not know when a source is trying to contact me or not)
Recruiter: Yeah, this is *** with *********.
Uma: *thinks: great, this is a consolation ‘we’re sorry, you’re fucked in this economy’*
Recruiter: Yeah, I just wanted to call and say that we would like to extend an offer—
Ok, so maybe the conversation didn’t go exactly like that. But it was close! And the second the word “offer” was uttered, I think I blanked out like a Victorian maid strangled in a corset.
My boyfriend and I celebrated my small victory during a trip we’d planned to New Orleans. We hit up Café Du Monde, roamed the streets of the French Quarter (where I sadly learned they do not actually speak French) and strolled in Audubon Park. I also managed to get drunk off of a third of this drink called a “Hurricane,” but that’s a story for another day.
He’s been in my corner this whole time—blindly confident that I’d get this job, even after I got rejected from this exact opportunity back in December.
One thing, in particular, he said, stood out to me post-offer.
For context, the post-offer period was less exhilarating as I’d made it out in my head. After the initial 12-hour high of “ohmygodImadeit” wore off, I started spiraling: Will I do well? I probably just got lucky. There’s still such a long way to go and I don’t know where I’m going to end up in five years.
And bro gave it to me straight: “Just enjoy the win.”
It’s not revolutionary wisdom. People love to throw around that whole “stay present” thing. But I’m a planner. I like maps. And now, post-grad, I’m realizing no one has a map. The structure I used to count on—semester starts, semester ends—is gone (not that I particularly liked school.) I could be doing anything next year. I could move to France. I could start a business (unlikely). I’m climbing, but the mountain keeps shape-shifting.
I don’t really know where or what I’m climbing up toward, just that I am moving forward, whether I like it or not. And the stakes are so much higher in the real world, out in the cities and states and communities beyond shrouded little Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
I’m grateful that I have people who I care about who I can run back to for comfort. But the boyfriend is right. For now, I’m just going to be happy with my win, and try to be the best possible version of myself I can be in the moment.