The Elk Doesn’t Do 9–5

ragehafza
Oct 4
3 min read

Not Meant for the Straight Line

I’m embracing not knowing. Not being someone who moves in a straight line.

I used to think that being the kind of person who finds one thing they want to do and does it every day made you stable. Functional.Especially growing up in an immigrant family, stability was success. Routine was success.

But I’ve always been unpredictable.Unconventionally conventional.

What They Expected of Me

When I started working 9–5, I met people who’d been in the same roles for decades. They were committed to the climb, steady on the staircase.

At the time, I had some loans to deal with, hadn’t found my footing yet, and didn’t know who I wanted to be or what I wanted my life to look like. And because nothing about me looked conventional from the outside, I was constantly underestimated.

I think of the moment when I heard this girl, someone I used to be friends with, tell another girl that I wouldn’t graduate school. Like I was some mess who wouldn’t make it.

And I thought, you know what? I will graduate school. But I’ll do it my way.

That’s kind of been the archetype of who I’ve always been.

My sibling once said I wasn’t capable of taking good photos, that she was better than me. So I picked up a camera, started doing photography, and did it better than her. Better than anyone I’ve ever known.

When people find out I graduated university, it’s weird for them. I see it in their eyes, it doesn’t line up with the version of me they built in their heads.

When I left a narcissistic relationship, they expected me to fall apart.

But I’m still standing.

When I was going out a lot, they assumed I’d lose myself.

I didn’t.

When I started working, they didn’t think I could commit.

I did.

When people thought I was “too friendly” with men, they assumed I wouldn’t be loyal, but I ended up more devoted than any of them ever were.

People have always expected me to fall. And maybe for a while, I believed that too.

Chasing a Stability That Wasn’t Mine

That stability they projected became this pedestal I started reaching for, first because they thought I couldn’t get there, and then because I thought I couldn’t.

I thought not wanting that version of life made me a bad person. Or at least not a normal one.

So I did everything I was “supposed” to do, with my own twist, because I couldn’t abandon my nature.

I finished school. I worked jobs. I played the part.

But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s just not me.

I Work, But I Roam

Don’t get me wrong, I love working. I love being self-sustained. It fits with how independent I’ve always been.I get to move how I want, make my own choices, rely on myself.

But I’m not a conventionally stable person.I’m not the wake up early, gym before work, meal-prep, journal, sleep at 9, repeat type.

That kind of routine never appealed to me. That version of “control” never did either.

Because that’s what routine really is, right? A way to feel in control.

But I’m the elk, the one who doesn’t believe we really have control.

Where My Control Actually Lives

Our only real control is in how we respond. It’s in our character.

Routine doesn’t build character. It just makes you efficient. And maybe that’s why I’ve never subscribed to it.

I still eat well, I journal, I move my body, but only when I need to. If my body asks for it, I listen. If my emotions or mental health need attention, I give it.

I don’t do it for control. I do it to maintain myself.

I let my needs decide.