My Boyfriend's a Lawyer, But...

that has nothing to do with me.

I initially didn't want to blog about this, but it's something that's been nagging me for the past couple of weeks. At Danny’s wedding a couple of weeks ago, I ran into an ex-boyfriend from my freshman year at Northwestern. Let’s call him “M” for Mistake. I know that that may sound harsh, but it’s the best way that I can summarize my feelings about the whole relationship.

M and I chit-chatted about what we had been doing the past couple of years. I told him about my years doing engineering and my recent switch to investment banking. I also told him about the upcoming move to the Bay Area to attend Haas. He told me about his graduate school experience and his new job as a consultant. Things were going fine until we started talking about our current romantic relationships. He told me that his girlfriend was living in the Bay Area and they were doing a long-distance thing. I told him about Law McGraw and our plans of moving to San Francisco together. The real killer was this:

M: So what does Law McGraw do?

Jodyann: He’s finishing his last year of law school. He has a job lined up at a law firm in San Francisco, so we’re going to be moving out there the month before Haas starts.

M: Oh wow! He’s a lawyer! Well, you really did well for yourself! You snagged a lawyer!

And that angered me so much! Out of everything else that I’ve worked so hard for, I would hardly consider having a lawyer boyfriend as my most significant accomplishment. It’s not as if I went on a hunt specifically for a lawyer. Even if Law McGraw was a starving artist, I would still love him and consider myself to be the luckiest girl in the world.

This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened to me. Any time I run into someone from my past, they’re always impressed about Law McGraw being a lawyer. What about everything that I’ve done in my life? What about all the years that I spent learning organic chemistry and fluid dynamics to be an engineer? What about my promotions and raises? What about my GMAT score? What about my acceptances to business schools? What about the fact that I’m truly happy right now? Aren’t all of these things a better indicator of how well I’ve done for myself?

Why must people assess me based on Law McGraw’s chosen career path?