Boss or Hobbit?
A friend of mine reposted a tweet by someone that read: I don’t want to be a girl boss, I want to be a girl hobbit and live in a hobbit hole and have two leisurely breakfasts every day and a garden full of potatoes.
I pressed the heart button, showing with my response I agreed with the statement. That I feel the same.
But do I?
We’re surrounded by influential women making a name for all women as they push into spheres that were previously boys’ clubs. I get press releases each week of women in sport, business, science, journalism, politics, law, and so on who are trailblazing, setting records, exploring, and innovating. They are girl bosses. Taking up lots of space. They’re incredible. I’d love to be them. Sometimes, I feel like I’m on my way.
Equally, I’d also like to be a girl hobbit. What even is a girl hobbit? I’m not sure, but sounds very Lord of the Rings, which I also know very little about. I think of eating berries from bushes and meandering over hills. I digress.
For the last nine days, I’ve worked very little. My kids have been on half-term holidays and I knew there was no way I’d get much done with them around, so I put on my Out Of Office.
There wasn’t one moment I resented being off work. We painted, went to parks, read, cooked, cuddled, and watched TV.
Looking at them, directly in the eyes, noticing every pattern in the blues, greens, and browns. Kissing their quickly-slimming baby cheeks. Listening intently to them discussing football players and Pokemon characters. I loved it all.
And realised that for much of the last year and a half, while I have been pursuing a career in journalism, I’ve missed a lot of moments with them. I know I’ve been a ‘good mum’, but I very often, haven’t been a present one. My mind elsewhere.
I’ve thought about finding stories, standing out among the crowd, training, interviewing, writing, editing, invoicing, networking, promoting. None of which, at least I don’t think, is bad.
Women should be able to work. They should be able to use their minds. They should be able to be on par with men. They should be able to get promotions. They should be able to rise to the top of whatever ladder they’re climbing.
We can. And I don’t feel guilty about working. Full-stop.
And yet.
I read a book about dying this week. Deborah James was diagnosed with bowel cancer at 35. Five years later, she died. Even though I rarely read non-fiction anymore, I read her book, written when she knew she didn’t have long to live.
At the same time I checked out her book from the library, I also picked up a book written by a man whose son died at a young age. The librarian probably thought I myself was dying, or grieving the death of a child. I’m not, but I have had some cancer scares over the past few months, bringing death into my thoughts quite often. We also, as many of you know, lost of young dog recently, and the grief was acute, unexpectedly.
All of this – cancer scares, the books, the dog - reminders that life is fleeting.
How then do we live, not only as women, but as people, when we know death could be right around the corner? Okay, that’s a huge question. One you’ll have to think about in your own time I think.
But how do we think about careers, given our time isn’t indefinite? And how do we think about careers - both as mothers and fathers - with children who are rapidly growing?
My oldest just turned nine. That’s halfway to eighteen. I’ll blink, and he’ll be an adult. Everyone said how fast they’d grow up, and they weren’t lying.
With that in mind, is this the time to immerse myself in establishing and advancing a career? To the detriment of being present with my kids when they are around?
Questions I’ve been pondering over the last few days, with no solid answers.
One pivotal conversation I had over the weekend was with my mom. A single mom who worked and established herself in professional capacities over and over while we were young. Even though she always worked, and excelled in everything she did – I always recall her being around. She was never too distracted to hear me, or spend time with me.
When I asked her about how she’d thought about it all those years ago, she responded by answering my question with a question, as most wise people have managed to learn the art of.
If you only have a few [and it really only is a few] more years with your kids left at home, could you not just hold tight a bit longer on career advancement?
(Maybe it wasn’t those exact words, but it’s what I remember.)
Women are proving every day that their careers blossom in their 40s and 50s and 60s. Actually, a lot of women have a total change of career as they age. Proof that as much as I think :: I have to do this now or I’ll never make it in this field :: I can in fact still pursue and excel in a career as I age.
I have a finite number of years with my kids, and if I spend all of them distracted, I know that I know that I know, I will regret how I spent my time.
So perhaps that is going to be my metric. How distracted am I right now, spending time with my kids? And if I cannot focus on them, enjoy this moment, maybe things need to shift. Maybe it’s time to re-evaluate.
I don’t fancy being a stay-at-home mum, although I know and respect so many that do. My mental health wouldn’t cope. And I think it is super important that women are heavily represented in the workplace for the sake of gender equality.
That said, I don’t fancy viewing my kids as little inconveniences to my career trajectory. I don’t think [maybe I’m wrong] I will look back on my life and regret spending more time with my kids. In fact, as things stand now, I may look back and regret I didn’t spend more time with them.
Because they are my precious little loves who mean more to me than career. And I want them to know that, not just in theory, but in practice.
That was long-winded and I’m oh so sorry. I realise this is just me. It isn’t the conclusion everyone will come to. But I do suggest the book by Deborah James. And I do think it is so incredibly important to evaluate the present, when we can change things, before it becomes the past.
Right now, I don’t want to be a girl boss. But I also don’t want to be a hobbit. I just want to be, present.
Oh, PS. We need more affordable childcare and men who are equally present fathers too. Just had to fit that in, but couldn’t bear to waffle any longer.