What I didn’t know about motherhood before I lost my day job

These are years I won’t get back—a statement that’s equally true for my own life as it is for the special moments I’ve been able to witness of my childrens’ ever since I lost my full-time job in November 2022. I had been laid off once before and I thought I knew the drill. I called my husband and sobbed the news through my earbuds whilst braving the 405 back to our house in the LA suburbs—we’d closed only four months earlier. A home that I was tentatively proud to raise our two daughters in, thanks to our double income, in a city we’d only chosen to live in out of devotion to my career. 

After COVID and the birth of our second child, we had both kids firmly squared away with school, preschool, babysitters and even a few extracurriculars. Of course I lamented the time we both missed with them. But, I woke them up and got them dressed, prepared their lunchboxes, drove them to school, then pushed myself through the hour-long commute to work with a little help from explicit lyrics on Spotify. I busted my butt in a competitive environment, and still rushed home every night to make them dinner by 7, read them a story and put them to bed.  All before getting back on my laptop for some quality time with my husband.

I faced every single day like this with optimism and gratitude. Living for the weekends, which my husband and I constructed around the kids. Creating an atmosphere of joy, love and discovery. We made meals together. Took walks in nature. Spent Sunday afternoons with their grandparents. The increasingly small circle of women who I could still call friends—mostly other moms, and a few of my childhood friends—were constantly lauding my endurance. They were impressed by my ability to raise kids, while maintaining an upwardly mobile career in the entertainment industry. For the longest time, I believed them. 

I felt special. Awesome. Super mom. And, yes, it was a bit rare for my husband to be complimented in the same way. Few people in corporate America expect a father to play a parenting role beyond “enjoying the kids” on the weekends. There were times he was locked away in his home office for 16-hour stretches. And in the end I would hear his colleagues say, “Go have dinner with your family.” But there was no thought as to how or when or by whom the groceries would be purchased, nor the work involved to prepare said dinner.

We all know that these are the years we won’t get back—not just of our kids’ lives but of our own too. 

Squeezing in all that corporate dragon-slaying into a life where we raised kids who were healthy, happy and well-adjusted? Yes, it made me tired. Exhausted sometimes. But, I also felt a little bit like Wonder Woman. So, when a spree of layoffs pushed the brakes on my working-mom lifestyle, I admit I was a little relieved. I still curled onto my bed and cried like a normal person. But with the severance money that I felt lucky to receive, I eventually chose optimism. I welcomed the break and looked forward to turning a corner in my career, certain there was something bigger and better out there.

Fast-forward 9 months later and cue the frustration and anxiety of unemployment. It’s not just about how to pay the bills, but about what a gap like that does on a “working mother’s” resume. It keeps me up at night. Would I be willing to work below my former salary just to learn something new and stay relevant? Absolutely. Would it cost me more in childcare than our family can afford? Yes. And yet, it’s all I can think about. Even while I’m immensely grateful for the moments I’ve been able to spend with my children in the meantime. I love being the parent who watches my daughter through the window of her Taekwondo studio. I love helping them discover the world and their place in it. It’s just that I can’t help but wonder, if someone like me—who has always given my best—can so easily slip through the cracks, what will become of my little girls when adulthood comes for them? 

I am trying to enjoy this time that I know is precious.

I’m tired of feeling worthless, even when I know that my family loves and needs me. Tired of measuring my worth based on what capitalism is willing to pay for the “family virtues” it claims to espouse. Tired of feeling rejected by what, despite many people’s efforts, still feels like a man’s world. I know there are other women out there who push themselves over the limit trying to “have it all” and raise families while staking a claim for our sex in the workforce, constantly asked to step outside the room when there are real gains to be made. Mothers experiencing the same self-worth vertigo as me. We all know that these are the years we won’t get back—not just of our kids’ lives but of our own too. 

Maybe you’re lucky enough to have a partner who can keep a roof over your head while you devote your life to the care of your children. I am fortunate to have that as my lived reality, but I know that that is not the case for many. So, yes, I am trying to enjoy this time that I know is precious. But, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t still frustration or anxiety or even anger—these feelings are mine, they may be yours too and rightfully so. While you stand in the eye of the storm that is motherhood, if you feel, as I do, that the world is dismantling your identity, hold onto yourself.