Page 69 of Scandalous Contract

STEFANIE

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IWAS GLAD TO BE BACKat work. However, my vacation solidified my idea about something I’d been dancing around for a while. It was my time with India that made me realize it was time for a change.

We’d stayed up late watching movies, eating popcorn from a large white bowl, our feet tucked under the same blanket. In the middle of a cheesy rom-com, she turned to me and asked, “Are you happy, Mom?”

The question made me realize that my baby was worried about me being alone, worried about how I’d fare now that she was growing up and venturing out on her own. It was time for her to start chasing her dreams, but she was feeling hesitant because she was worried about me.

Though that saddened me, it also helped me put things into perspective. India’s life wasn’t my life. My life wasn’t her life. Only she could live her life. Only I could live my life. And we’d clung to each other tightly these past seventeen years.

But it was time to slowly start letting go. Though I’d assured her that I was okay, her question lingered. I was happy, right? Or was I? Did I even know what being happy meant? That sounded like a dumb ass question to ask myself.

Everyone knew what being happy meant. However, the more I thought about it, the more it sunk in that I didn’t truly know what it meant to be happy. I’d spent so much of my life living for other people: my husband, my child, my career, and the higher-ups' expectations. I’d never truly lived for myself. What did it mean to live for myself?

I didn’t know exactly what that looked like yet, but I knew it was time to find out. While my daughter would always be my world, she was right about me needing to live for myself. And I’d already started working toward that goal, much to my boss’s disappointment.

I sat across from Courtney in the newsroom as she reviewed her script for her upcoming segment. She was eager and quick to learn, making the training process smoother than I had anticipated.

It helped that I’d already trained her before when she first started working here a few months ago. Soon, she would leave her position as a multimedia journalist and take over my segment,A Chance For.

In her eyes, I saw the excitement I used to have when I came into this building. Of course, I was still excited about all things weather-related. However, I was no longer eager to sit in front of the green screen here and be the face and brand I’d been made into.

The Weather Diva!

I had brand endorsement deals. I went on podcasts to talk about the importance of understanding climate change, I visited gardens and interviewed people about which plants and veggies could endure harsh weather conditions. I had become a brand, and everyone around me thought it was wonderful.

Instead of reviewing Doppler radars, instead of looking for debris signatures, and being the one who informed the NWS that a tornado warning should be issued, I was dressing up and smiling in interviews so that weather could appear more interesting to viewers and our ratings could go up.

What would happen when I got older and my body changed? When I was no longer the pretty package that could bring in viewers? Before it came to that, and before I got to a point where I hated this job, I wanted to leave.

I missed just being a meteorologist. Sometimes, it felt like I wasn’t taken seriously enough because of the brand deals. I couldn’t complain. I loved my job. But this diva was ready for a change.

And it was my daughter who’d convinced me to make this change. She’d convinced me to start focusing on what made me happy. Since this place was no longer one of my happy places, it was time to let it go and search for a new happy place.

“Are you absolutely sure about leaving the station in a couple of months?” Courtney asked, furrowing her brow. “When I started here, I promise my goal wasn’t to take over your segment.”

I smiled at her genuinely. “I know, girl. You’ve been great. But yes, I’m sure. I love this place, and I love the team. But I’ve been here since I graduated. It’s time for something new.”

I had thought long and hard about this decision. Joining the news station right after college had been a significant chapter in my life, but I was ready to close this book and start a new one.

Writing had always been my quiet dream. For years now, I’d wanted to tell stories about women like me, women finding love again after losing a spouse or learning to trust again after heartbreak.

Women who’d lived their lives for everyone else and finally decided to live for themselves. I’d wanted to craft stories about women who were navigating love after divorce. Women who were empty nesters and who were trying to dip their foot into the dating pool again.

Women who’d lived their lives for others and who were now ready to live for themselves. I wanted to write those kinds of romance stories or maybe women’s fiction. I was kind of nervous about trying something new, nervous about what others would say and think.

But it was my India who told me that only I could live for me. I had tried to put on a happy front when she’d asked me that loaded question:Are you happy?But she’d seen straight through me.

That night on the couch, she’d grabbed my hand and said, “Mom, please stop trying to please everyone and just focus on yourself and your happiness. I can’t be happy if you’re not happy. So be happy. And I’ll be happy. Then, we’ll both be happy. And if we’re happy, who cares what anyone else thinks?”

I’d cried, of course. And asked her how she got so wise.

She smiled and said, “Because I have a wise mother.”

She was right. My happiness couldn’t come from anyone else. Not anymore. No one else could live for me. No one else should be the sole source of my happiness. My happiness had to flow from me.

And the first step toward that happiness was figuring out who I was when I wasn’t being everything to everyone else. Who was Stefanie Adams when she wasn’t focused on her career, her daughter, her parents, or her husband? I needed to find out.