Last week, I quit my 9 to 5, to be a stay-at-home mom.
My ego took it harder than I expected. I’ve worked hard the past several years to establish a career as a product designer and frankly, I like calling myself the title. It’s a “hot career path,” and I’m good at it.
“Product designer” reliably sparks interest in awkward introductory small-talk.
I also liked the pay. So did my husband.
Leaving my job meant our family income would be cut in half. I realize not everyone can do this; we could not have done this at other times in our lives.
But day-to-day, I struggled with the feeling that I was doing it all, and doing it poorly. Neither my baby nor work were getting the attention they deserved. I teetered on the edge of mental distress, crying nightly and randomly blowing up at Matt at least once a week.
The idea that I should be feverishly working at my computer, with more work always pressing down on me, while the babysitter secretly checked her snapchat instead of paying attention to June and her precious laughter, made no sense to me.
My resentment welled.
Before we had June, we agreed that our future children and their education would be our top priority. We wanted to homeschool, no matter the inconvenience. Now, we are asked to put our money where are mouths are, and adjust our life to reflect that value.
I kept asking Matt, “Are you sure you will be okay if I quit? What needs to be in place to make you feel comfortable?” But I could have easily turned those questions on myself: Would I be okay if I quit? What would make me feel comfortable to leave my job?
I repeatedly asked for his permission, but I needed my own.
In my self-reflection, I wrote Matt a letter as a journal entry, which I share here.
I wouldn’t normally publish such a personal thing, but reading back on it, the letter touches on so many fears, beliefs and assumptions about what it means to be a working mother.
I hope by sharing this letter, which is edited for privacy and clarity, you might get a peak into the conundrum of the modern mother, trying to find her way between two paths.
Or if you are a mother, perhaps you will see yourself, and that you are not alone in this weird tension. When I shared with friends, mentors and coworkers—who are also mothers—that I was considering quitting, they all said had the same message: “You will never regret taking the time to be with your children when they are young!”
I didn’t quite believe them at first. So I wrote out my thoughts while the baby napped:
Dear Matt,
Thank you for all that you do for our family. June and I are so blessed by you. You bring abundance to our lives. I couldn’t ask for more.
We’ve talked a lot the past year about me quitting my job. At times, it has been a very touchy subject. Not because of you. Because of me. I get prickly talking about it because of the fear and anxiety it brings up.
I’ve taken much pride in becoming a designer, a professional, and a high-earner. Walking away from that feels threatening to my self-worth. Who will I be now?
My mother and both my grandmothers always worked, even when they had kids (and they all did it well). I feel proud of what they accomplished and I inherited this expectation of myself. I feel terrified to consider something different than what I have always known.
The last time I did not earn my own money, I was in a very bad spot mentally and emotionally. Our relationship suffered terribly because of my poor state. I’ve harbored the belief that I might return to that poor state when I don’t earn, and that earning less means something detrimental about me.
I’ve harbored the fear that giving up my full-time job will cause you to resent me. This is not based on anything you have said or done, only on my own insecurities.
When I do give myself permission to leave my job, my brain tries to figure out how I might immediately replace my income when I quit. This is resistance. I resist feeling vulnerable. I resist relying on you. I resist giving up a [false] sense of financial control and autonomy. I’ve wanted to keep working and earning as much as possible to prove my worth, to prove I am “equally contributing,” to know that I have something that is “just mine.”
But the truth is, everything I have is yours.
The good, the bad, the ugly parts of me, the surpluses and the debts, all of it, is entirely shared between us. You see me, no matter how I try to hide or control.
When I hear my heart, control is not what I want. What I really want is to nurture our family well. I want to contribute even more, beyond the singular scope of finances. And I believe my most important job right now, and probably for the rest of my life, is mothering.
I see clearly now the conflict of full-time work: I try my best to be present, but my job takes up so much of me energetically. I don’t know how to tone it down. But I can see the light of possibility beyond the frustration and fragmentation that I experience right now.
I see a new future for us: one where the house is a bit more orderly, where our meals are lovely and nurturing (and maybe even planned), where June is carefree, secure and guided to her highest and most loving potential, where you and her experience and receive my total presence and devotion.
You have said before, “If you want to quit, you should, and we will figure it out.” And I take you at your word, but I want to give you the chance to fully consider this possibility and to choose this path for our family with love and joy and a full heart too.
Love,
Elise
Matt agreed I should quit. To his surprise, I did so immediately.
He has his own anxieties about this change, and I work to make space for them. I also notice his confidence building each day, the confidence that we can make it work, and that ultimately, the Divine will provide a way.
For June, and any child really, some of the best education is witnessing your parents respond to the unknown with courage and tenacity.
May we live up to it.
This makes me smile as I read your thoughts. Society has made the word “homemaker“ a demeaning word. I am here to say it is the highest calling of your life Loving Matt and June well takes time and energy. I believe you are up to the task and you will excel. I’m very proud of you, and I’m excited to watch your family excel and grow.❤️
Every decision is a trade-off; whether or not you clearly understand this, it remains the case. I so admire your ability to articulate the tension between the opportunities you had ahead of you... So much of our identity is tied up in our work, so much of it in our family; you've so artfully and thoughtfully considered where you can be most whole. Thank you for sharing this; though your story is your own, I think all of us have struggled with our own version of navigating this tension and (personally) the more examples I understand from others, the smarter I can be in considering my own journey. Thanks!