This week I had a revelatory moment. It struck me as I was walking into a building and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the plate glass. I saw a smartly dressed woman with a laptop bag slung over her shoulder.
“Where have you been the last three years?” I asked the mirror image as I pushed the intercom button to announce my arrival.
As the door buzzes open, I consider how it feels to wear a black dress with flowing red scarf tied loosely around my neck, stockings, heels and all-business glasses. Even if I feel a little shaky on the inside, I have all the right props. No one here will have any idea that I haven’t done this full-time in three years.
I was glad to leave my current persona at home for a while. I liked wearing my old self even if just for a day.
I love my children. I love my husband. But they cannot define me and be enough for me. I need a little more. It feels good to be working again.
Several weeks ago I accompanied my husband on a business trip to Chicago. Mostly I did it to get away. Partly I did it to witness the presentation I’ve been hearing about, and helping him with in small ways, for more than a year. Afterward the organizers invited us to dinner at a popular restaurant in the downtown business loop.
While I’d secretly hoped for a quiet dinner for two, so I didn’t have to worry about how many glasses of wine I’d ordered, and I could kick off my uncomfortable shoes under the table, it wasn’t to be. Instead I felt “on” since it was more of a business dinner. I had to watch my words and not get all, well, the way I can get sometimes.
After a few exchanges of pleasantries I was asked: “So, what do you do?”
I mentioned my part-time freelance business that is temporarily full-time.
“Oh, so mostly you are just a mommy then.”
Why the instant leap? Why the dead-end of conversation once the leap is made? I felt crushed.
Mommy — not even mom or mother — mommy! was said the way someone might spit out the word pedophile.
And I had thought the guy was pretty nice at first.
Just this week I logged on to Facebook to find a so-called friend had sent me some application quiz that determined my dream job was to be a wife and mother. Huh? First of all, this person knows I’m trying to return to the workplace. Where this whole you-are-better-off-at-home sublimation comes from I’ll never know. Rather than fire back some snarky remark, I just deleted the whole post.
But back to this week: I check in at the front desk, hand over my business card and announce who I am. Then, I’m led down a long, polished corridor that winds its way to the CEO’s office to conduct a joint interview with two high-ranking members of this organization.
I was taken seriously. I engaged in adult conversation, discussed plans, strategies and deadlines. I had a schedule to juggle, appointments to confirm and my planner was bleeding ink to the margins. It all felt so natural. People were paying attention to me. I wasn’t so-and-so’s mother or somebody’s wife. Not that those things are bad but I do have a name and my own identity. Motherhood and marriage can shove those things to the back of the closet.
That’s the upside.
The downside: My poor, poor house is a wreck. Tasks both inside and outside sit uncompleted. There are three family birthdays fast approaching, not to mention the whole holiday stress-fest. I have a mother who feels ignored, a visiting brother who feels slighted and probably a husband and two daughters who feel they’re not getting the service they’ve grown to enjoy.
Sorry, folks.
This is my first big paid gig and I feel the need to do a good job, to be viewed as dependable, reliable and able to deliver on time, as promised when we set our terms in September.
It feels good to have a task, a deadline, responsiblity. I’m hoping these seeds planted will nurture a larger garden of opportunity down the road. If nothing else, I learned what I needed to do to be successful working from a home office.
I’m on the other side — even though it’s a short visit.
And I like it.
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Awesome for you! And yes, you have every right and need to be defined for yourself rather than because of your identity as (by the way) wife and mother.
Woo hoo! So happy for you! I’m a mom to two daughters just like you and I think that our ability to maintain an identity as a (insert whatever your passions/career/interests are here) as well as a mom is so important – we are role models for our girls after all.
Good for you! I think it’s so important to have an identity other than ‘mommy.” That’s why I need to work part-time. And we need to think of a snappy response to people who say “Oh, you’re just a mommy,” like “That’s right. I’m a professional babysitter, housecleaner, chef, organizer, caregiver and head of household.”