When Michelle Obama swore on the Stephen Colbert show and thousands of people shared the news, it hit me at a vulnerable moment.
You see several years back I read Sheryl Sandberg’s book Lean In and was really inspired by it. Yes I could do it. I could be a mother, and a successful entrepreneur or writer besides. Heck, she could do it. Sure she had a great husband and money by now but she probably didn’t have all that when she started. She was pretty honest about the obstacles she had run into and I was very inspired.
I grew up passionate about becoming a parent. Specifically becoming a parent in a different way than I was raised. I cared so much about it I could not imagine not having children. I did have a career, but was not deeply attached to it and when my first child was born in the mid 70s I stayed home to be a full-time mom for a while.
But feminism was rising. As an educated liberal woman I certainly identified with the feminist causes. Who wouldn’t? But for me I still wanted to raise my children full-time. As the months and years went by, there was more and more criticism from the culture and sometimes even from friends about my choice to stay with my children as opposed to getting a “real job.”
At a beautiful art fair one summer day I ran into a childhood friend who was now active in the state arts commission. I had both babies with me as well as the stained glass projects I had been creating for sale. I was really glad to see him. Until he asked me what I was doing. I told him I was raising my children and doing stained glass.
“Oh,” he said and moved on. My choice to be with my children apparently was so uninteresting to him that he had nothing more to share with me. That was a fairly common response although his was conspicuous.
I refused to give up on my passion for being with my children and for parenting in general. I read books, I learned. I tested out what I was learning on my children who were of course ready participants in my experiments. Meantime I became an artist in a variety of ways and a small business person. These ventures allowed me to stay with my children and to be available while supposedly bringing in some income.
No matter how creative my ideas were as an entrepreneur, however, years went by with none of my projects really taking off as a viable business. Forever the optimist I continued to try new strategies and occasionally new ideas.
A few weeks ago I completed my 70th year on this planet. Sometimes those milestone birthdays get to me. While I still feel healthy and energetic and useful, realistically I can acknowledge that my life is past halfway.
Then, 10 days ago on a hiking trail in a Costa Rican jungle I fell hard on a slippery sloped mud trail and broke my arm. We were in a remote area two hours from the closest hospital. When my son and my husband helped me back up the path to reach assistance and our car, we passed a giant snake on the left as well. Right beside the path.
The combination of all of these factors and the disability that goes with having one arm in a cast threw me into a state of mind that I can only describe as awareness of my own mortality. And with that comes a voice inside of me that is panicking that I haven’t achieved what I intended to in the world.
I haven’t become the superwoman I intended to be. I haven’t written a bestseller. I haven’t made hundreds of thousands of dollars. I do not have a highly regarded career. I do not have my own retirement fund. I’m not superwoman. In fact I feel pretty fragile right now.
I don’t have a real job.
I did my best to lean in like Sheryl Sandberg said but somehow it didn’t work for me. What if I’m approaching the end of the trail and this is all I ever have? Can I look back and say I’m proud of it?
I am deeply proud of all I did to learn to be a good parent. And I’m deeply grateful that despite the financial hardships I spent as much time with my children as I did. I am in awe of the fact that now I have three little grandchildren that I’m able to be present to, to offer unconditional love to, and spend time with.
But… I still don’t have a career. I still haven’t written a bestseller. I still haven’t made a big splash in the professional world.
Perhaps you have no judgment about that. The sad thing is that I do. I judge it myself. For 40+ years, ever since I was a young mother and the feminist movement was expanding, I have believed that I should and could do it all.
But I have failed. I have failed to accomplish what I wanted on one side of the equation. And I think that I’ve spent too much time suppressing that awareness and instead trying harder, harder, harder. I have never quite given myself the unconditional love and approval that I believe in and try to offer to others.
When I put all this into words I end up crying.
If a friend told me all this I would comfort her and tell her that our spiritual practice is about being present and loving – which is what you chose and what you did. It’s not about achieving in the world. So give yourself a break, acknowledge what you have accomplished and give yourself that long overdue unconditional love and acceptance.
It’s more difficult when it’s myself. I feel like making excuses, I feel like a failure, I still want all those success-in-the-world dreams that I’ve had for years.
Here is what Michelle Obama said last week: That whole “so you can have it all.” Nope, not at the same time. That’s a lie. And it’s not always enough to lean in because that shit doesn’t work all the time.
Perhaps if I take her words to heart – the frankness of a woman who appears to have it all – I can find a balm for my heart and my soul.
