Sarah Too

I am seeing so many posts -- blogs, articles, essays -- from women saying that "self care" is not enough to combat the daily grind of jobs, personal relationships, family, children, stress, and more. And I completely agree. I want to go out and buy every woman I know the recently released book about female stress called, Burnout. This book could not be more relevant or timely. It explains exactly why pedicures, a walk around the block, that one girls' weekend away are not enough to combat our stress, to provide real relief.

I think modern motherhood is absolutely exhausting. We put so much pressure on ourselves to do everything right for our kids. From positive discipline to balanced nutrition to literacy and screen time, we are trying so. damn. hard. Every day while also taking care of laundry, and dishes, and meals, and dirty toilets, and mildewed showers, and overflowing trash cans. Every day, the pressure to be a patient, loving, attentive mother while paying the bills, scheduling appointments, and arranging logistics. The hustle is real.

In the midst of all of this, we are failing ourselves. We are beating ourselves up for loving our careers too much, or for giving up on our careers too easily. We feel guilt over wanting "more" than motherhood, or shame ourselves for not wanting "more" than motherhood. If we are truly honest with ourselves and each other, we all feel like we are doing it all wrong. We also feel like we "look" all wrong while doing it and deride ourselves for our cellulite and stretch marks, our flawed, aging bodies topped with messy, grey-flecked hair.

And here's the thing. Caring for humans is really fucking important. It may be the most important thing, yet our American culture treats caretaking as a task unworthy of monetary value. We give it lip service in the public sphere, but when it comes right to it -- we snub nurses, teachers, and daycare providers. We tell them their pursuits are noble, turn to them in our neediest, and most vulnerable times, yet we overwork them, pay them next to nothing, and treat them as less than the professionals that they are. We tell them to carve time for themselves out of the scraps of other people's demands. We imply their gift for caring for the sick, the infirm, the young, the vulnerable has no limit. Their patience and strength are endless.

And for stay at home parents, we all wonder, "what do you do all day?" We assume there is time enough for them to tend to their own needs, wants, and desires. We look down at the stay-at-home parent that takes time away from their children to go to the gym, pursue their passions, sleep in their beds, or go to the bathroom (ALONE) with the door locked! In my own experience, when I was in the throes of sleep deprivation with a toddler that would wake 2-3 times each night, I was told that I get to hang out in my pajamas all day, so I don't *really* need a full night of sleep each night. The implication from that statement is that my work isn't "real work" because I don't leave the house and bring home a paycheck. To say I was upset by this feedback is an understatement. Spending all day with a pre-schooler and a toddler while being sleep deprived had me feeling less than human. It made me unable to advocate for myself because I did not even know how to put into words what I needed. I was barely surviving and it showed in my parenting and in my marriage.

Further, if we take time off or give up our careers entirely in order to stay home with our children, there is a underlying sentiment that we are "wasting" our career potential. The most extreme version of this sentiment is how we view so-called "Welfare Queens" who are considered the ultimate slackers. We are doing the important work of caring for babies, and toddlers, and little humans who will become our doctors, plumbers, factory workers, teachers, politicians, and shapers of society in the future, yet we are wasting our potential? Because our work is not profitable? Or quantifiable? I would say not raising an asshole is pretty fucking important work. WE SEE WHAT HAPPENS.

But maybe there should be a way for us to have families and pursue a career without sending our children away for 10+ hours a day for thousands of dollars a month. Maybe there should be more flexibility in how we work. Maybe we shouldn't expect employees to be indestructible automatons that don't get sick, or have family members that get sick, or need to sleep during nighttime hours. Maybe profit margins, corporate salaries, and shareholders shouldn't take precedence over the human resources that make all of those possible. Shouldn't there be a priority on work-life balance? None of us can work as if we have no self or obligations outside of our employer-paid hours.

Burnout tends to all of this -- how to truly care for your whole self within a culture that doesn't value taking care of the whole person. Our culture constantly tells us to achieve more, be more, do more -- all while looking a certain way and being filled with fucking gratitude the whole time. In doing so, we feel like impostors and we are exhausted from the effort.

Life is hard. For each of us in a multitude of ways, life is hard. We have all got to prioritize the ability to oscillate between work and play and rest. This requires less coffee, wine, and carbs and more reaching out, asking for help, and connecting with each other. I think a life well-lived looks a lot less like awards, promotions, raises, busyness, or achievements, but like health, laughter, presence, pause, integrity, honesty, connection, and community. I am working hard toward the latter, and making many mistakes along the way. In the meantime, I am not ever going to feel guilt or shame about treating myself as a human being worthy of care, attention, grace, compassion, and a full night's rest. Nor will I judge another for the same. Ain't nobody got time for that.