i have worked nearly every day since i was 15. work has come to define who i am. it is not ALL that i am. i’m finally ready to fly in a new direction…

on the day i was legally allowed to work, i applied for a job [at Subway … to be a sandwich artist] and i loved it. well, i loved the frozen cookie dough.

my senior year of high school, i spent 30-35 hours a week getting a paycheck while juggling varsity sports, the class presidency and college-level courses.

sometimes i wonder if i would have received two B’s and ruined my 4.0 if i hadn’t had to pay for everything from school lunches to my braces. [i’m not complaining; i am far from the exception. i’m merely insinuating the privilege others have.]

for example, even when studying abroad in italy, i worked part-time sorting slides for the art history professor. AND … to afford that semester, i worked full-time at a coffee shop during my sophomore and junior years of college. some days started at 5:30am to put in an 8-hour day before afternoon classes.

AND THEN … while abroad, despite a weekly budget, i ran out of money and flew home two weeks earlier than planned. my flight home from europe [one of my most ridiculous travel stories] returned to green bay on a tuesday; i started my new job in madison on thursday. by the end of that summer, i was working three jobs to pay back the $2k in credit card debt + the $1k loan from my sister – that were suffocating me.

my first design job after graduating turned into 70-hour work-weeks after both full-time designers quit and the marketing manager was fired within the same month.

pretty sure this was my permanent facial expression during that time [you look great though, heath] …

i stayed in madison long enough to interview and hire someone else then soared to chicago to find new work. before i knew it, i was sitting in my cube at hu-friedy until 10-11pm — getting locked inside some nights because the security guard had gone home. the guards knew my name and started checking our area before turning the lights off.

upon resigning in order to move to st. louis, hu-friedy offered to allow me to work remotely. after a few months of the work-from-home life, i left my bonus on the table after being recruited to join fleishmanhillard. my highly supportive boss questioned the decision “are you sure this is what you want? you really don’t care about money, do you?”

not really… so i flew the coop.

[fun fact(s): hf brought me back to lead a training on “my brand” years later … AND last fall, i had dinner with a former co-worker (hi Kay, I hope you’re reading this!) in tokyo of all places. we chatted like old friends despite many years (and an ocean) apart. i was so delighted when she handed me a gift-bag using our award-winning design from nearly a decade prior. still makes my heart smile as much as the parting gift that says “insert Robin here”.]

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to recap…

i left a comfy work-from-anywhere job for a high stakes creative role at one of the largest (cut-throat) p.r. agencies in the world. they gave me a laptop i could take home; the work never stopped.

after casey was accepted to grad school, i gave notice we were moving to madison thinking i would spend the year focused on art – not work. instead they “allowed me” to move states and keep working as a creative director — flying me back to st. louis bi-monthly.

i was so grateful they trusted me …
i never once thought “i earned this.” 

– Old ME

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then fleishmanhillard flew me to paris.

[… yes, you read that correctly. paris, france. above is where we stayed. it was beyond ridiculous. that trip requires it’s own incredible slideshow.]

the cross-atlantic trip, was to support a new business training. it remains the most fantastic week of my career … yet, i tend to block-out the jam-packed 12+ hour days designing for the sessions followed by more time spent working into the wee hours as my colleagues in st. louis woke up.

here’s a real-time reaction about the reality of that work trip …

i spent the 24 hours immediately after the retreat in downtown paris … sitting on my laptop … inside my airbnb … working to catch up on the normal workweek i had missed. luckily, rachel [pictured above and below] dragged me out on the town.

i almost didn’t go with her. i told myself it was my second time in paris. i didn’t really need to SEE paris … it was enough that i was merely there — working.

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• in 2004: we ran all over that damn town. we had a blast.
• in 2014: i had to work up the energy to walk close enough to snap a vaguely decent picture of the eiffel tower. it was sad.

looking back now, i hate how my priorities changed within those 10 years.

why am i reliving all of this?

designers sort through their past every time we need work. we update our portfolios — along with our resumes and websites and social channels. it’s by far the worst part about being a creative… you can never full close those chapters. i spent a majority of last week working on updating my work portfolio after the bomb was dropped on me and an opportunity arose with fleishmanhillard. it was the last thing i wanted to be doing … but i need the freelance work, don’t i?

in 2016, i left the corporate nest to start my own business. scaling back to a 20-hour week commitment for a start-up non-profit, gave me the flexibility to plan our way-too-complicated wedding and chart my own path. of course, other projects quickly seeped in and after three years, my time commitment steadily rose [along with my invoices] to a breaking point.

precisely when i was having doubts about staying on my own, regaining work-life-balance and craving stability, maritz found me on linkedin and coaxed me back into the office. i was hourly at first which kept things in check, but once i accepted the salaried position i was working WAY more and making WAY less.

but i was happy — working.
wasn’t i?

during the same time and frequent visits north last year to work on #thestonehousestory, my niece and nephew often asked “why are you always working?” if not on my day-job, i was focused on cleaning and remodeling an 80-year-old piece of our family’s history.

my macbook is never far whenever i’m sitting in their living room.

when i was laid-off during a particularly laborious trip to wisconsin, i felt relief: a deep sense of calm having something taken off my plate. but by the time i got home, i was filled with a deep, resounding sadness — and failure.

i had been “working” my whole life. now what?

over the past two months i’ve realized, being a creative director is not who i am — it’s what i do. and not just that …

it’s what i CAN do,
not necessarily always
what i WANT to do.”

– NEW me (bird)

when my father-in-law recently asked how i’m “enjoying my life of leisure, because i’m “not working“” i cringed. if pivoting your career and setting up a sustainable business is leisurely – you had me fooled. 

when my husband complained yesterday that he had “to work tomorrow” [as if i don’t] it made me angry. he clarified he meant going into the office. [sure, i knew what he meant.] 

i haven’t received an unemployment check, yet. part of me is worried about the money but most of me is not. the other part of me is, again, relieved. those slips of paper will be another reminder of my [work] failure.

see what i did there? i compartmentalized the failure. it was tied to work. it is not a reflection on me. it should not change my personal self-worth. it should not influence what i want to do.

so what do i WANT to do?

i WANT to create meaningful
(art)work for others (and myself).”

– also me (still bird)

if you are reading this and want to inspire hope together, i’m your bird.

i’ve got a plan to do this (of course) and that will be revealed soon enough.

in the meantime, please say something, anything.

this hyper-social bird has had her wings clipped during this pandemic and could use any words of encouragement you have…

• comment below [!]
• email me (robinhaugen@gmail.com)
• ping me on instagram
• message me on linkedin
• poke me on facebook
• text me
• write me a note
• drop a line
• send a god damn carrier pigeon

am i flying in the right direction?

i need YOUR wind in MY wings for this to work.