Disclaimer: This is one you’ll definitely want to talk to your therapist about.
How to explain your career to your family and not feel like a failure when you definitely feel like you’re failing.
“What are you working on?”
Mmm, cranberry sauce with stuffing and a side of criticism with dashed expectations – sounds like a regular holiday feast to me! This year, the holidays will be presented differently, but our emotions are still at risk of being caught in the crossfires. Whether it’s over Zoom or in person, we have to protect our mental health.
For me, it feels that I’m constantly engaged in my craft; and I am, but that judgmental eye my aunt casts on me from across the dining table – causing my armpits to dampen – has me on defense. How do I let my family know that even if it feels like I’m a struggling filmmaker, I’m not failing?
Here you’ll find an account of how I intend to make it through the holidays and keep my mental health stable – and hopefully you can take away some tips and tricks if you feel like you’re in the same (sinking) boat.
We all know there are more important problems in the world than the current state of the film industry, but it’s hard not to feel the combined stress from it all. Opportunities may seem like they’re rough idling right now. Like my first car (piece of s***), but eventually I moved on to something better and I know the same goes for my career.
It’s not about convincing my family that I’m all good. It’s the process of convincing myself – to talk about it with a conviction that even I’ll believe. That’s all that really matters, anyway. How else am I to continue creating when a cloud of expectation looms overhead?
My number one goal to keep in mind during this: respond with kindness.
No group of people knows what irks me more than my family, so they may have just the right divisive thing to say.
Do NOT submit.
If this were a wrestling match, my aunt would be the one who has her varicose legs locked around my neck and my mother, the referee laying on the floor, watching as I struggle to make something of myself in a sport I clearly asked to participate in even though they said it would be unlikely to make anything of it.
I still hear the occasional, “Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can go back to the medical field.” This is the death of my chipper holiday spirit, but this year I’m going to cut through it before it even has a chance to spring from their eager lips. Though they mean well, as if to allude to my many career options, this is the last thing I want to hear. I chose this career for a reason and it will work out. It has to.
Proving to myself that I’m an actual functioning adult person can be hard, but the more I confirm it out loud – the more it feels true. Unfortunately, it’s very easy to let people I love dampen my spirit.
Now, it would be ideal to get to the heavy conversations before my family downs all the pre-made Bloody Mary mix as if it’s a competition, but I only have control over my actions, so I’ll hold off on the wine and set some boundaries.
Know what’s off-limits.
I won’t bother getting into the details of the ever-changing film industry. I’ll have responses prepared, but I can do without the fictional scenarios running through my head so I won’t think about it for too long. I’ll make it simple, letting them know that while film work continues to exist in a new capacity, I’m choosing to not take any work right now unless it’s writing I can do from home. It’s true and makes me feel like I’m in control.
Even the small things count
I’ve only written once every few weeks – or months, even – since 2020 body-slammed life as we knew it. It’s understandable and it counts. I likely accomplished something, though it’s difficult to render because I’m very hard on myself. I had an idea for a new short with no plans in sight for actually making the thing. That’s okay and it’s worth mentioning. I can make it seem like this very important project and maybe I’ll even start to believe it – and I can protect this precious, brewing idea and use the conclusive line, “It’s not ready to talk about, yet.”
Direct the conversation
As a storyteller, it shouldn’t be too difficult to guide the conversation. By redirecting their questions back to them, I’m giving myself a break and showing interest in their lives. It will give them a chance to talk about what they’ve been up to; people enjoy this. If it feels unhealthy, I’ll fantasize about laying in bed with a second slice of pie.
This year has changed what our work looks like but has especially changed how we see ourselves in relation to our work. Maybe it’s been a daunting time to create for you like it has been for me. I’ve had way too much time to think about my productivity and how it feels like I haven’t done enough. I’m finding a renewed empathy for myself. In time, I’ll look back and see just how much I accomplished and how it all mattered. Maybe I can even see a glimmer of that now.
On a final note – can anyone recommend a therapist? Happy Holidays!
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Note From Tongal: "Master the Art of Self-Defense During the Holidays: A Guide for Independent Creators" is part of a series of Tongal Community-written blog posts that were originally sourced in the Tongal Blog Open Call Project. The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Tongal. Read more Tongal Community-written posts here and then Pitch us a topic you'd like to write about for the Tongal Blog!
