Femme d’Affaires

Mango blazer
Aritzia skirt (similar)
Sezane boots (similar)
Chanel handbag
RayBan sunglasses
Elizabeth Lyn Jewelry necklace
Keltie Leanne Designs ring (c/o)
Urban Outfitters earrings (similar)
Location: Dominion Public Building – Winnipeg, Manitoba

On Wednesday afternoon, I found myself walking – no, sliding – down Victoria Street in Regina, Saskatchewan, alone, after a sales meeting with a prospective client. My four colleagues who were in the meeting with me were all on their way to the airport. But there were no seats left on the flight to Winnipeg that afternoon, so I walked back to the hotel on my own, oversized purse slung over one arm, throwing off my already precarious balance. After a night of freezing rain, the streets were slick. Heels and a pencil skirt were absolutely the wrong outfit choice for the situation, and what amounted to five hundred metres felt like miles.

But I felt strangely confident, despite the fact that I had to grab onto more than one light post along the way to stay upright. In my black cashmere coat, with my laptop in my Spanish leather purse, I was a businesswoman. A femme d’affaires (because yes, everything, even the word businesswoman, sounds better in French.) And everyone who saw me knew it.

“Is this the life I imagined for myself?” I found myself wondering. And the answer was an easy no. I wanted a glamourous career. Something that made people say, “Oh…!” when I told them what I did for a living. In my imagination, it always took place in Europe, or at least somewhere more cosmopolitan than central Canada. People within my industry often joke about their career paths. In fact, one of those jokes came up at the meeting I had just left – because no one, absolutely no one, imagines they will grow up to work in a nebulous field like absence management. I was no exception. In fact, I could scarcely have defined the work I do now before I actually started doing it.

And yet, there was something strangely satisfying in that slow walk down Victoria Street, feeling like a true femme d’affaires. This is not the life I imagined for myself. But the fact is, I imagined a different life and a conventionally exciting career because I expected that career would define my existence. My job would define me, I thought, and so I wanted a career that would align with the person I perceive myself to be.

Technology makes it easier and easier to live and breathe work. I know so many people who never shut off. People who wouldn’t understand how to shut off, how to separate themselves from what they do, because without their job, they don’t actually have a life. They are so wrapped up in work that it consumes their every hour and, without it, they would be unable to fill their time. And now that I’m older, I can’t think of a more terribly empty way to live. Work is just work. It’s not a life.

I am a femme d’affaires by day. I wear my blazer with conviction, and roll up the sleeves of my white Oxford shirt when it’s time to get things done. But when the day ends, my life goes on. I am a femme d’affaires by day only. My job is just that – a job. I do it with purpose and confidence, but it is only one part of my whole life. And the thing I realised in that walk down Victoria Street is that this isn’t the life I imagined for myself. This life is better, richer and more fulfilling because I don’t allow my work to take it over and define who I am.