Unfinished Business

Unfinished Business

I’m almost done reading Unfinished Business by Anne-Marie Slaughter. She’s given me a lot to chew on in these pages, about the true nature of equality between men and women and what is required from all of us for the next great cultural wave of change to occur.

Chapter five, entitled Is Managing Money Really Harder than Managing Kids? was particularly moving for me to read. I was trying to wind down before going to sleep, but so many light bulbs were going on in my brain that I was afraid to keep reading in case I stayed awake half the night considering her ideas on how we need to place a higher value on caregiving in our society.

Slaughter writes, “The broader understanding of caregiving also includes teaching, discipline (holding the line even in the face of tears, threats, and curses), coaching, encouraging, problem solving, character building, and role modeling. Often caregiving is about reliability: simply being there when being there is important to your child, your parent, or your spouse. And it’s about support: focusing on someone else’s needs and figuring out how to meet them, whether finding a lost sock, book, or cell phone or offering a genuinely attentive ear.”

Unfinished BusinessAllowing these words to sink into my brain was like applying Polysporin to an infected wound that has been festering for the last twelve years. I despise this endless need for permission to validate the specific choices I have made, along with Jason, about what’s best for our family, but clearly I still have work to do in this area.

I planned to return to work after Ava was born, for I am a feminist, dammit, and ambitious to boot. I was not going to stay home and waste my decent brain on nursery rhymes and homemade play-doh. If this sounds judgmental, that’s because it is. One of Slaughter’s recurring themes in her book is that we must all face up to our cultural stereotypes, gender biases, and faulty perceptions. I certainly possess my share.

But once Ava was born, I didn’t want to leave her to go back to my office, so Jason and I made a series of sacrifices so I could stay home. I started a successful home business selling rubber-stamping products so I could help close the gap between what Jason earned and what we needed to live on.

Fast-forward twelve years. Many things have changed but one thing hasn’t: I’m still the one at home, managing the myriad of day-to-day arrangements and catastrophes. I’m the one caregiving. How could I ever hope that anyone else will value this role unless I model what that looks like for myself?

Jason has an excellent job and he is terrific at it, but a huge part of why he is so successful is the contribution I make at home. I am here, day in and day out, working my writing and speaking around the kids’ schedules so that when Jason needs to travel for his career, he has the flexibility to do so. The competition of the workforce only succeeds if someone is taking care of the details at home.

I realized while reading Unfinished Business that I must continue to define my own contributions as valuable. I have to reframe them, and so does anyone who has built a life on those skills that Slaughter lists in the earlier quote: teaching, discipline, coaching, encouraging, problem solving, character building, role modeling, reliability and support. These things matter. Just because they don’t usually have a dollar value attached doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t be sorely missed if they were gone.

This is unfinished business for me in my own personal value system. I’m grateful to Anne-Marie Slaughter for continuing this important cultural conversation with her new book.

No More

No More

“It often takes just a single brave person to change the trajectory of a family, or any system, for that matter.” This quote, from Brene Brown’s terrific new book Rising Strong, struck me in the heart like a well-placed arrow.

It’s brave to make huge life changes. It costs us, every single time, and has far-reaching effects for others. I’m just arriving at a point where I feel comfortable talking about the work I did three years ago with my side of the family. Before now, a lot of silent, underground healing was still happening.

I loved listening to Brene talk with Liz Gilbert on her Magic Lessons podcast about the types of stories we share. Brene said that she only shares stories when she’s worked through the shame, pain and regret. If she tells these stories before this healing has happened, it’s too much vulnerability and other people can use the story against her. Once she’s finished processing the wound, she can talk about it without feeling the same sting.

NO MOREHearing this boosted my courage because I recognized its truth in my soul before I even worked it through my mind. A single brave person can alter the trajectory of everything, by simply deciding, “No more.”

In my case, it was, “No more pretending. From this point on, I’m moving toward being real, authentic and honest. I will not ignore my feelings any longer. I am worth more than that. I deserve to pursue my own path, without constantly worrying about how other people will perceive me. From this point on, I’m looking after myself and my dependent children and refusing to caretake for other adults.”

This statement caused great unrest and upheaval in my family of origin. It did not fit with my lifetime habit of rescuing, fixing and people-pleasing. I can finally own this as a brave act of vulnerability and risk. I did it to save myself and to model a different way of being for my two kids.

It was very hard, for a long time. I felt this stand was selfish. I worried about disappointing my mom and siblings. I grappled with less-than identity concerns about my own value and worthiness – how could anyone else love me if I was on the outs with my own family? Working through these issues was agonizing, but worth it in the end, for I got to change the trajectory for myself and my kids. It’s never too late to stand up and say, “No more. It’s time to chart a new course.”

The consequences of these decisions must be weathered and borne. We can’t skip past them. Other people will hurt as a result of our choices, but this is for them to endure and feel. We might be in pain for a long time. I’ve had to learn to forgive and then love from a distance while the healing process is underway. But I have the right to change, grow and be free from old patterns. And so do you.

A Good WOE

A Good WOE

Last week, a friend was going through a busy, stressful time, so I decided to text her a daily WOE (Word of Encouragement) to help her finish strong in her commitments. She let me know that these morning WOEs served their purpose by motivating her through the lowest ebbs of her week, but I was surprised by what they did for me.

I found myself slowing down and turning inward to find something creative and specific to tell her each day. If I got quiet, drawing long, deep breaths and picturing my friend in my mind, I was able to connect with an intuitive sense of what to say. It reminded me how powerful our subconscious is, when we make the attempt to tap into it.

A Good WoeOffering a WOE to those we love doesn’t cost us any money and only a small investment of time. But it does require vulnerability (the willingness to be seen as our true selves) and courage. We offer up a portion of who we are, a radical act of bravery in a culture that tends to value self-reliance above all else.

I started writing handwritten appreciation letters to my friends and family in January of 2015 because I was longing to connect, to belong, to tell those I am in relationship with what I most love and appreciate about them. It has been a wonderfully satisfying exercise in growing my friendships. I needed to step out in vulnerability, for the health of my own soul, as much as my loved ones needed to hear why I am specifically grateful for each one of them.

These new WOEs, via email, Facebook or text, are the same. They are an intentional bridge to intimacy in my relationships. They can bring a tiny shard of light into someone’s temporary darkness. They remind us that we are not alone. We are all in this struggle together. Any time we can help someone shoulder a heavy load, it is good for our soul to step up and offer a few kind words.

My friend sent me a personalized WOE in the middle of the week. I think I read it about fifteen times. Every reading brought a lift to my spirit, tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. Encouragement truly does have a spiritual power. It lights up the darkness, providing a dose of motivation when we aren’t even aware that we need it.

Who do you know that could use a Word of Encouragement today? Take this small step, letting your friend or family member know that you are thinking about them. Feel your soul rise along with theirs. Risk a little bit. Invest in the people that matter to you. And see what happens when you give away a good WOE.