When I was a freshman in college, I had been working menial jobs (just to survive) since I was 14 years old and I had worked extra hard to get to this quite big name university, and there I was, not even one iota ready to take on the world.
I was this deer in the headlights, grasping for even a fleeting sense of self.
It was because I was young and gullible that I had this boyfriend, this guy who was pretty nice but lived with his parents and wasn't in college and was kind of provincial (in a sweet way).
Me and this boyfriend, we watched this movie with Nicholas Cage called "The Family Man", which was about this guy who was this rich, single lawyer who suffered the misfortune of having to live his life over again in an alternate reality, as if he had never gone to law school but instead married his high school sweetheart and settled down in their small town and become the prototypical suburban baby-daddy.
However, the protagonist (played by the aforementioned Nic Cage), is throughout the film consciously aware of the fact that he exists in this alternate universe, and eventually makes peace with the lot that has been doled out in the alternate life and excels to become a sales manager of his local tire shop, which is the only profession awarded to him by his current, alternate existence. Along the way, he learns to appreciate being a husband and father, a role that the protagonist originally had found cumbersome.
"I love this movie, because its moral is that family is more important than career," said the then-boyfriend.
I remember that I looked at him in horror at that moment, wondering if we had, in fact, watched the same movie.
"No way," I said. "The moral of that film is to underscore the importance of career. If you have the drive, you can accomplish anything, and go from rags to riches," I said, with sincere belief and conviction.
Some say that a person either has the fight inside of them or hasn't. Although I've survived, I've never thought of myself as a fighting dog; yet still I agree, and, furthermore, I say, You've got to keep on trying, squeezing the last bit of your potential until you're sure you've done the most you could with what you were given.