I know, working mama, I know. It’s hard. And isolating. But we’re doing it well, this living and teaching and raising and loving and scheduling thing. We’re not alone. And we don’t look like the stereotypical, frazzled women in business attire with screaming kids clutching her elbow. We look like a lot of things. Mostly, I think we look like hard, beautiful love.
Work is so many things: corporate, non-profit, academic. It’s paid and its volunteer. It’s flexible or it’s rigid. Work may be a necessity, or sanity’s life blood. It may be both. In age where the world is watching women perform on an omnipresent digital stage, it’s critical that we fight for the little spaces. The spaces in life to excel at work, at self care, at motherhood. The space to watch a sister let something go we never would, and to excel at something else we may never pursue.
We need these little spaces, these vital graces.