What Happened to Me?

What Happened to Me?

By Jane Tompkins

As I set the kitchen up for, yet, another one of my “lessons” I keep thinking of all the hopes and dreams I had as a senior in high school. I was going to “be” somebody. I was going to be successful and make a good living. I was going to meet my future husband in college, get married, and have a couple of kids. NOW, I look at myself in the mirror and see a 38 year old, single, woman who graduated college with a BA in Political Science (thought I was going to be a lawyer) and a Master’s in Sports Journalism (thought I would become a sports announcer) and someone who has spent the past 14 years of my life working in kitchens, bars, and restaurants as a bartender, waitress, and now a pastry chef teaching classes to a group of yuppies who can’t think of any other way to spend their money other than learning how to cook a five course meal. To be fair, I’ve worked in some very posh restaurants both in Chicago and Denver and thought maybe I could be an important chef or own my own restaurant some day, but who was I kidding? It is near impossible to be successful in the restaurant business and thank God I didn’t go that route because COVID would surely have put me out of business and I’d really feel like a loser! I’ve even tried my own “Personal Chef” business and had several clients but nothing that could sustain or pay my expenses; I was always just getting by. And as far as relationships go, I’ve had several “relationships,” some have even lasted longer than a couple of years, but as of now, I am alone wondering which Phish concert I will attend and pretend that I am happy and carefree to all my married friends who keep me informed as to when their next child is due. UGH!! Where did I go wrong?

To be honest, my whole existence has been trying to impress my dad as to how smart I am and trying to get him to realize that just because I’m a woman, I am still capable of being successful and worthy of his attention and acceptance. I used to watch how my dad treated my mom, who was a stay-at-home mom. I couldn’t figure out why he thought that what she did was so trivial compared to him (he owned his own business). But my mom ran the entire household. She cooked, cleaned, mowed the yard, shoveled the snow, got the oil changed in the car, was the president of the PTA, dropped us kids off at school and picked us up, scheduled all of the doctors and dentist appointments, and decorated our house, inside and out, for every holiday. So why didn’t he give her the credit she deserved? It wasn’t until my mom went back to college and got a job teaching that my dad changed his tune. But I did that, too, I went to college, so why wasn’t he giving me accolades. 

I have been a competitive swimmer since I was 7 years old and my dad never once came to one of my swimmeets. Oh, yeah he did. My younger brother, Golden Boy, had to join the swim club for one season as therapy for a knee injury - dad never missed a swimmeet during that season. But once my brother was done, so was he. I played soccer and basketball in high school, still no dad. I was a Homecoming candidate, still a no show. Go figure! I guess that’s why I feel like an even bigger failure because I wanted so badly to “show him!”

I really think my issues have always been about my dad and trying to “measure up.” Why do I care so much? My mom has always been supportive and there for all of my events but that was never enough for me…I wanted my daddy. I wanted to be daddy’s little girl. The realization that I wasn’t, came to light when I was 7 years old. When I joined the swim club I wasn’t the best swimmer but by the end of the season I was doing pretty good. In fact, at the end-of-the-season banquet, which my dad refused to go to, I was given a trophy for the most improved swimmer in my age group! Well, that didn’t impress him. Then when Thanksgiving rolled around, our town always had a daughter-daddy dance called the “Sugar Plum Ball.” All my friends were going with their dads. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my dad. I don’t know what I was thinking, maybe that this was going to be the best night ever, just me and my dad. But when I told him about the dance, he flat out said, “he wasn’t going to that stupid dance.” I was crushed. I even asked some of the other dads in the neighborhood if they would take me, how sad is that! The night of the dance we were watching the news and all my friends were seen getting out of the limos with their dads. All dressed up, smiling, and having the time of their lives. That’s when I decided, I was done. I went over to my dad and said, “ I will never ask you to take me to anything ever again.” I could hear my mom and dad that night talking, well mom was yelling, about how insensitive my dad was and that what he did could be one of the worst mistakes he has ever made. My mom can be pretty convincing, so at dinner the next night dad announced that just him and I were going to go to St. Louise for the night. We were going to get a hotel room, go shopping and out for dinner. I know he meant well, but there was no way that this was ever going to make up for his refusal to take me to the dance. And I know I wasn’t as excited as he expected me to be. In fact, I remember telling him on the way to St. Louis, that this is great, but it will never erase the hurt I felt when he wouldn’t take me to the dance. Even today, my dad keeps trying to “make up” for that night. So maybe it’s me that is holding back. Why would I do that? Why wouldn’t I want a good relationship with my dad? And why is it so important for me to get his approval? I guess I always thought, if you don’t think that much of me….I’ll show you and be somebody AMAZING and then you’ll want to be with me all the time and I can tell you, “I don’t have the time, too bad, so sad, see ya!” Kind of immature, but that’s how it is. (Cat’s in the Cradle by Harry Chapin just popped into my head). 

Well, back to setting up. I wish my mom was here so I could talk to her. Yesterday when we were talking on the phone (she realizes how strained my relationship has been with my dad and constantly encourages me to keep searching for that “thing” that will fullfill me), she mentioned to me that maybe I should look into something to do with nutrition. I have always been conscious of eating healthy and being active. I still run 3-4 miles a day, and now that I have moved to Denver from Chicago, I have the opportunity to do a lot more hiking, which I do at least 2 out of 3 weekends a month (more during the summer). My mom also enlightened me to the fact that dad always said that he would pay for any education that my brother and I completed. It was his “gift” so we would never have college debt or loans (I think it was because he didn’t want any government officials knowing what he made a year). I think when I get home tonight, that’s what I will do, check out a program that would enable me to get out of the kitchen and do something more productive with my time….an actual career. At 38, I think it’s about time.

Well, two years have passed and I took my mother’s advice. That night I went home and looked at professions that deal in nutrition and healthy eating habits. I began taking classes two weeks later that enabled me to earn a degree in Nutritional Science. I have currently laned a position at one of the local hospitals in Denver and will be in charge of tracking patients who are in need of special diets, including obese, elderly, diabetics, and other health issues. My days will be filled working with those who I will be able to have a postive effect on their lives. And yes, the pay is great with benefits and everything! I called my dad the day I took the position and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. He told me he was proud of me and I think this time I actually believed him. Maybe this is the first step towards the healing process…I have to believe he really does care.