As a young woman, and particularly when I was growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, I believed I could either be a career woman with shoulder pads and a ritzy flat in London, or an earthy motherly type with a brood of kids and a big kitchen.
I wanted to work in 'The Media' because not only did it sound impressive and look interesting, but I figured the wardrobe would be insane when I got my dream job as a magazine editor. (A ritzy flat in London was also super appealing.)
I continued on the path to my dream career by majoring in media studies at university and becoming involved in student radio.
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But post-graduation, the media career trajectory I had imagined for myself ground to a halt.
I briefly worked in London as a television production runner and aside from once literally tripping over Simon Le Bon (the lead singer of Duran Duran), I absolutely hated the job and being a coffee slave for rude old men.
Instead, I saved my money to go travelling to Australia, where I met a boy, quickly got married, and ditched my plans to study for a master's degree in radio journalism.
As a young married couple, we settled in the regional city of Newcastle, where I felt content to have a good job in marketing, a man I loved by my side and a comfortable lifestyle. But my mid-twenties spent in beachy Newcastle were far from what I had imagined as an idealistic teen. And there were certainly no power suits.