Great Expectations

Good thing I had zero expectations of last night’s debate, and I wasn’t disappointed. Life lesson – if you have no expectations you can’t be disappointed. Oops I forgot politics free zone.

I had this false vision, a grandiose expectation if you will, that if I focused on one job, being a “homeschooling” mom, I would miraculously turn into Mary Poppins. I would have the energy and desire to bake and do art projects.  I would be patient and pleasant. Instead, the reality has shown, I hide in the closet and nervously clean every surface in my house.

For 6 years my daughter was raised by other people who have a “calling” to care for children. My limited childcare experience was as a day camp counselor which was 39 days of being with kids. Period. 39 days, that is my limit. I had other people help me keep my kid in check during the terrible 2s, thrill seeking 3s, frightening 4s, and fickle 5s…and Andrew and I would raise her, nights & weekends, and on vacations. But when the sass would return it was time to hand her back to the professionals to mold her back into shape and a person we were “ok” with taking out in public. Rinse & Repeat. Literally, up until COVID the longest one on one time I spent with my daughter from talking age, was 13 days in Japan.

Now after 7 months of being raised by only her dad and I – and a lot of inappropriate TV – (every Star Wars, Marvel, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter to name a few) I have a feral 6 year old! I know, I know, “kids need socialization,” “their friends to keep them in check,” “we are all doing our best”, yada, yada, yada. I agree, and yet all these words of encouragement are not helping! I was hiding in my closet yesterday when she found me! My daughter had to show me the “words” (they were lovely letters, but no actual words) she wrote in a notebook. Of course I said “lovely writing” – I am not a complete ogre, need to reinforce the positive – but I also said “your teacher is on math, so you need to focus on what the teacher is asking of you”, which was intensely rebutted by massive sassy stomping away and shouting, with a solid eye roll “MAAAAM”. Damn those cartoons! PS. Have you seen the new Scooby Doo? Not for a 6-year-old! Daphne is sexy, Fred is horny, and Velma is a mean girl. Ooops, another fail on letting her get addicted to that. And while I am on random thoughts, DO WE REALLY NEED TO HEAR ABOUT JOHNNY APPLESEED EVERY DAY DURING THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER!! We get it, the original environmentalist.

My parenting style is that of fleeing. Fight or Flight? See ya! That is really my style period. But as a parent I don’t yell. I ignore. The PC term to ensure CPS doesn’t have me on their radar is that I do not “engage”. I ignore when my kid has behavior I don’t like, or more accurate assessment, I don’t know what to do with. I feel that I am back to square one with a 2 year old, pushing the limits of what I will and will not put up with. She is seeing how much she can get away with before I flee and just give up or in. I am quite sure most parents at some point think their child is hard of hearing. They must be, right?? They can’t possibly be ignoring everything I say???… How many more times during the day can I say “walk away and take a breathe” (mostly to her, and also to me). My mantras are more like, “I will be patient.” “I will be present,” “I will not hide in the potty”. And now I am a yeller! SHE has turned me into a yeller (yes that is totally unfair, a 6-year-old did not make me something). But honestly, how much more dissonance can I handle??

On the bright side, one expectation I had, not a great one, maybe we should call it a fear, was that if I did not have a job to “clock in” at I would start drinking at lunch. Good news, I don’t. Fear averted. But fear of not being a good mom, alive and well. I officially have both on my resume, “paid job working mom” and “working in the home mom”. Fear of sucking at both – Mission Accomplished!

“Eight percent of success is showing up” ~ Woody Allen

Hiding in my closet

FYI: I am not homeschooling – the teachers are doing the amazing hard work of setting us up for success. We are trying to execute on their plans. Thank you teachers! I am in awe of your patience and persistence.

To come out, or not to come out? That is the question….

I know what you are thinking… “girlfriend, it’s 2020, love who you love. Get out there and do you!” But I am talking about coming out as a person in the workforce who struggles with anxiety.

In my former role I had the pleasure of working alongside a few of the brilliant minds focusing on Mental Health for our country and destigmatizing mental health, including opening the dialogue in the workplace. Three years ago the department hosted a 2-day conference focused on Resilience. I know, right, very cool job. Hard to believe I left it.

In one of the final panels of the two-day conference, in front of 150 colleagues, I shared that for as long as I can remember I have struggled with anxiety and depression. At about age 14, when I had sufficient vocabulary to express my feelings, I was diagnosed. I have an expansive toolkit that helps me manage. A strong, supportive network. A wonderful therapist. And on occasion when all these things are still not enough, I leverage the wonderful world of pharmaceutical interventions.

In preparation for the conference discussing as a leadership team what a segment with panelists directly from our department should focus on, I expressed I wanted to speak up about my struggle with anxiety in this high paced culture and high pressure role. One of the executives was concerned people would look at it as an excuse not to do their job. Like there would be a million disability claims flying through human resource channels as an excuse for people to “dial it in and get paid”. Sheesh, so much for walking the talk…. only if the stakes aren’t too high. But I persevered, and with the support of other leaders, and a bit of autonomy, I made a space for myself on the panel. I did address the concern in the Q&A that I knew I still had a job to do and was held to the same standards as anyone in my position. (hopefully that scratched the itch.) One leader stood up and asked how they could help me during the times when I am struggling? WOW! Someone not only accepting me, but raising their hand to support me. That’s what I’m talking about! I also touched on the Imposter Syndrome, which many of us with anxiety and/or depression identify with as we take on more responsibility, bigger projects, more, more, more, the voices in our heads have told us we’re not capable of, or focusing on how many million things that can go wrong and it will all come crashing down. I’ll share more about my realization on the Imposter Syndrome another day.

As we exited the stage, I can still remember the feeling. Pride and relief. Once you say something out loud it gives it less power. Plus, having the confidence to get up in front of a crowd was never my strong suit. Public speaking is a fear worse than death for most. You think someone who lives in their head is going to put themselves out there sharing anything, let alone their deepest darkest…. but I did it!

As the two days came to an end, many people came up to me, thanking me for my authenticity, role modeling, how they appreciated my vulnerability. They saw something in themselves, in their friends, in their colleagues, or their family members, who may be struggling too, and it highlighted that there is a place for everyone. One person said “but you always look like you have it all together”. I reminded them, “it is all part of the façade and the dissonance that keeps my struggle alive and well.”

PS. I left the conference early the day prior to drive two hours to see my daughter’s debut holiday play (3rd lobster in the nativity scene, or some other “starring” role…), take her to the obligatory celebration dinner, grab 5 hours of shut eye in my own bed, and leave at 4 am the next morning to drive 2 hours back to set up for the day. Not only was I a panelist, but I was also the wizard behind the curtain for the 2 days. I am not looking for sympathy, just setting context of how important this was for me to do.

The outpouring over the following months was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I would randomly receive emails from people sharing how much they appreciated me using my voice and platform. They struggle as well and didn’t feel like they could talk about it. They felt like their diagnosis had to be hidden because managers wouldn’t understand or think of less of them. The biases that people struggling with mental illness “just can’t get out of their head”, “just aren’t smart enough to overcome”, “don’t have a mental toughness to be a leader”, or whatever else such nonsense people tell themselves to self-protect. Rachael is successful, and yet she struggles too. I am not solely defined by this piece of me. By the way, not one single person asked me, if I ever went on disability or how to file a claim to “take a rest”….

Moral of the story… always be your authentic self. People want to know you and they’re more supportive than you think. We all have our “stuff”, and that “stuff” is what connects us, gives us something to relate to.  What are we here for anyway, if not to connect? As I am in a place of reflection, not running pillar to post between first grade and full time job, I recognize that this milestone of sharing myself was the first step in gaining the confidence to step away from the course I thought was the career path already planned out. People responded to the person I am, not only the work I deliver. Now that is cool! Maybe what I thought about in my early 20’s to motivate me to get a Masters in Organizational Psychology was starting to happen, there is more to corporate than deliverables.

“I’ve learning that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ~ Maya Angelou