I know the question's coming and I'm braced for impact.
Then I'm aware that I'm braced for impact and, since I'm trying to do less of that these days, I take what I hope is a subtle deep breath.
"So, what do you do?"
We're at a brewery for a casual, happy-hour style baby shower for our friends. I'm standing at a hightop along the wall with a few familiar faces. And, while I'm soothing the "brace-for-impact muscle," I find it fitting that, of course, I wound up positioned along the wall in the corner.
Woooooof.
Ok, this is a place of mixed emotions for me. Truthfully, this whole town is. It's the place where my life fell apart, more than once, and where I returned to put things back together (eventually). For a while, I think things would've been too fresh, anyway. There needed to be enough distance to where repair could be possible, so leaving in between was the right move. That's only something I learned in hindsight, though.
"I work in marketing" I finally replied.
"That's probably the easiest way to say it, anyway" I added.
I hate that question less than I used to, but it still ruffles my feathers. It took a long time to realize that the problem was my own insecurity with how to present myself. Answering the question got easier when I thought about what they were really asking, which has nothing to do with work or jobs.
More often than not, people ask that question because they want something to talk to you about. Especially if you're at a social gathering to celebrate your mutual friends. Usually, it's not an indictment of who you are.
I’ve spent the last 15 years calling myself a marketer.
Only recently did I realize I'd been lying.
Sure, it may have been true once, but what I’ve actually been doing is identifying certain behavior patterns and coming up with ways to elevate them—again and again, for people and for companies. I mean, that's even what this thing is; what you're reading right now. It's a place where storytelling connects ideas to make you reflect on the behavior patterns in your own life. And I'm still working on how to say that plainly when someone asks, "so what do you do?"
But I no longer feel the need to prove my worth in my response.
So that's something... Actually, that's a pretty cool realization to stumble across. Especially while you're at a brewery with the same friends who were there when your life fell apart, and who cheered you on when you pieced it back together.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
262/365
What happens in your head when someone asks what you do?
onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.