Pip Lincolne was recently in Brisbane, chatting about her new book, Craft for the Soul*. I was lucky enough to meet her in person and listen to her talk. She spoke about how the book came about and how she came to write and teach full time. She shared so many amazing things. As I tweeted what resonated with me, a theme became apparent. Read more
Today I wanted to talk about my experience of motherhood, career and identity. And I would love you to do the same. If you have written a post about the cross-roads of career and identity, please feel free to link up below (your post needn’t be motherhood related).
This is my first ever blog link-up and I’ll be honest:
I really hope I don’t stand here with a full bowl of pretzels and no guests.
I went to the kind of high school that told its students “girls can do anything.” And we believed it. There was nothing in the way of our dreams, least of all our gender. All career paths were wide open. The war had been won and equality surely assured. Our mothers may have faced discrimination and difficulty but we would walk easily on the road they paved for us.
Today I have Kate from One Small Life guest posting on the blog. Kate talks about the complicated criticisms stay at home mums level at themselves, the presumptions made about other people’s thoughts and the reality of it all. I found myself relating to so much of this beautiful post and I thank Kate for sharing so honestly.
It was that time of year. Time to get to know the parents of the kids my kid shares a classroom with.
We sat in the sun sipping chai and chatting pleasantly when one of us began asking around the table what we did. There was a lawyer, a physio, an accountant, the director of a promising start-up – the rest I’m unsure of. At first I was listening with interest. What an interesting group of women. Then my head got fuzzy. Because I realized soon I would have to say something. And what would I say? Read more
I can still remember the feeling acutely. Driving into the daycare centre to pick my baby up, panicked as the clock neared 6pm, worried about the work I had left undone at the office and above all excited to see my son. That roller-coaster of emotions occurred on a daily basis when I worked full time. I felt, like many career mothers feel, that I was completely torn between two lives. That I was not capable of delivering the same quality of work and quantity of time to my career that I once could and that I was not giving enough to my child. Even though all evidence pointed to the contrary, I was convinced I was failing at both roles. And after I filled my mother role, my career role and my growing self-doubt role, there was precious little left over to give to my husband, the house and (last on the list) myself. I know so many working women who feel like this. But perhaps we are our own worst enemy. Maybe, as well as looking critically at work practices and our situation, we need to challenge our beliefs.
A few years ago the media was awash with stories about the “mummy wars”. It was cartoonish and one dimensional. The indulgent stay at home mothers pitted against the ball-breaking super women who worked full-time. I am not sure if such a war ever existed. I think pitting mothers against each other is nothing but click and comment bait.
This is what I see when I look around at the mothers I know: Some work full-time, others part-time, some work from home, some are self-employed, some work within family businesses, some are studying, some give an extraordinary amount of time to school governance, some do not do any paid work, some volunteer. All of them are fantastic mothers. All of them have good days and bad days. All of them are busy. All of them are trying to figure out how to do their best. All of them love their children dearly and would do anything for them. And we all need a bit of support from each other.
This month I want to focus on value, identity, motherhood and career. It’s something I have been turning around in my mind quite a bit lately. Puzzling out this particular rubics cube. What is my worth when it’s not measured by a predictable pay cheque at the end of each fortnight? What is my identity when I can’t quite articulate the answer to the inevitable “What do you do?” What is my value to a society that views success exclusively in career terms? Read more