Shiny Porsche? Check.
Custom-designed Brentwood abode? Check.
Refrigerator spanning half a city block? Check.
No, no. None of it’s mine. They belong to a guy I dated. Clearly, he’s wildly successful by every financial and Instagram-y metric. He works in his family's business with his dad, whom he despises. Here’s where it gets juicy:
He earned a J.D. and passed the California bar, widely considered the most difficult in the country.
Why's he putting up with his old man? The answer’s so obvious. Flee! Join a firm. Hell, start a firm. Sell everything and move to Thailand.
Maybe the setup is too lucrative to refuse. Who knows?
But it was crazy to watch. It was sad to watch. The toxic father/son dynamic tainted everything. Stained the marble floors. Corroded the ironwork. Messed with the outdoor speakers.
Ornate, over-the-top, and intense, his house was oppressive. Every window closed. Most drapes drawn. What looked like a castle was actually a prison.
Worst of all, he hated it and couldn’t see an escape. It was hard not to say, Dude, the cage door is unlocked. Just nudge.
Before you think, Thank God that’s not me! I could never work with my family. I mean, his weekends must be nice, but still…
Is he really the only one “stuck” in a “problem” he knows how to solve?
Instincts tell me no.
Yeah, his case is extreme and glitzy and lends itself to a moralizing blog post. We’re all in his boat (not a literal one, as far as I know). Or you've hopped aboard at some point. You know the one, it has I might perpetuate my pain painted on the side.
The trick is returning to shore. How to start:
- List all your irritations, the big, small, short-term, seemingly endless.
- What do you think the solution is?
- What could the solution be?
- Is that the only way? Think of three more options, too.