I was supposed to be an au pair in the United States.
I had applied, prepared, and imagined the life I would have there, and then the plan fell through.
At the time, I saw it as a door closing. I had no idea it would send me to Australia, where I would learn English, study marketing, earn a degree, and spend seven years working in a marketing department.
I could not have predicted Portugal, Ireland, or Switzerland either, or becoming a mother, or writing three books, or hand-delivering a copy of Maternity Abroad to the British Library in London and still waiting for someone to confirm they received it. If you work there and happen to see my book, please send me a picture. I would like to know it made it past the front door.
None of this was in the original plan, which was babysitting in America.
A reel I watched before bed brought all of this back. A woman was talking about luck and an idea called the surface area of luck.
The premise was that people who seem lucky often give themselves more opportunities for luck to find them. They make things, try things, put their work out into the world, and tell people about it.
Doing without telling means people may never discover what you have made, and telling without doing leaves nothing for them to discover. Do both, and luck knows where to find you.
I liked the idea because it put words to something I had been doing for years without thinking of it as a strategy.
You tell me what is happening to my face in this picture… no idea.
When I was ten, I told a friend about a dream I had. I remember watching her face as she listened, wanting her to understand what I was imagining. I did not know then that telling someone about an idea was a small way of making it real outside my own head.
I have done versions of that ever since. I have moved countries, studied, worked, written, published, and told people what I was trying to do, usually after there was something to show. Some decisions opened doors, others led somewhere I had not expected, and a few probably looked completely unremarkable at the time.
The difficult part is that you cannot tell in advance which is which.
When my au pair plan fell through, I could not have explained how that disappointment would lead to the life I have now. I was responding to what was possible, making decisions with the information I had, and trying to build a life I wanted.
It would make a satisfying story if every closed door turned out to be a blessing, and it would also be a lie.
Some opportunities disappear, and some plans fail without anything better coming along to justify the disappointment. We can make good decisions and still get unlucky, or work hard and still be overlooked.
I do not believe everything happens for a reason, only that one failed plan cannot tell us what the rest of our lives will look like.
My plan to become an au pair in America did not work out. That was a disappointment, not a prophecy.
There was still Australia. Nothing about it was guaranteed, but it was available, and I took it.
Now I have books to write and work I want people to find, and I have no idea what will come of any of it. I do not know how many people will read Parenting Unpacked, what my next book will be, or whether the British Library will ever acknowledge the copy I delivered.
I can keep writing and publishing, and I can tell people what I am making so they have a chance to find it. That is not a formula for success, but it beats waiting for luck to arrive while I keep my work to myself.
I was supposed to be an au pair in America. Instead, I ended up with a life I could not have planned, a daughter, three books, and a growing list of things I want to make next.
What was the plan that fell through for you, and where did it send you instead? I would love to hear about it in the comments. 💛
Jessica Gabrielzyk
