I Thought I Was Rebuilding My Career. But I Was Actually Redefining Myself.

I thought I would love being a stay-at-home mom. I envisioned lullabies, home-cooked meals, art projects, and domestic accomplishments. What I found was isolation, unexpected anxiety, and—dare I say—boredom. I only saw failure: every unwashed dish, every pile of dirty laundry, every unfinished task. I took normal baby cries and minor ailments as evidence of being a bad mother, or at least an incompetent one. 

Neither of my boys took to bottles, so my body was almost their sole source of nourishment. This turned into an almost total dependence on me in their first year. What was once a source of joy became a source of overwhelming suffocation and exhaustion. A stroll through Target alone was a triumph, quickly followed by guilt of ingratitude at having such beautiful babies and the opportunity to be home with them. I knew it was a privilege to quit my job and focus on these boys.

And this was all contradictory to the moments of immense joy that I also felt during these years. I loved their little baby bodies and their little baby smell and little baby snuggles. I can remember holding my two sons all day and night and feeling absolute bliss and surprise that we could be so happy. There was neverending tension between the gratitude at being with my kids and the feeling that I had lost myself. 

Maybe part of the problem was that I was young and didn’t know myself all that well, so I didn’t know what to value and celebrate yet. It was a horrific tragedy that started me down a wholly different path: the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. To be perfectly clear, I had no direct connection to the school or the shooting. I did not lose any loved ones. But seeing the tragedy and its aftermath play out in the news shook me to my core—it created a new sense of purpose to protect my own family and community. 

After the shooting, I got involved in the gun violence prevention (GVP) space. I started as a volunteer. I would strap my then 3-year-old and 18-month-old into a stroller and wander the halls of Annapolis, Maryland, to visit my state representatives for the first time, never imagining that this would turn into a career. Through my volunteer work from home, I started to use my brain again. I found my voice in a movement that was working to keep families and communities safe from gun violence. 

This turned into part-time policy work, and I learned new skills: writing and giving testimony, talking to reporters, giving interviews, and organizing other volunteers. From there, I accepted an opportunity to lead a small state community organization working on the issue in Maryland. As my kids started grade school, I stepped into more hours each week. 

I decided to go back to graduate school and complete my MPH at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health while simultaneously starting a policy role at a national GVP organization. It was hard work raising kids, going to school, and working.  Yet, the busier I was,, the more fulfillment and satisfaction I developed. It eased my stress and anxiety. Since I was working, my husband took on more of the parenting and home responsibilities. I started contributing to our finances again, so I felt less guilt about spending money. (To be clear, this was all pressure I put on myself.) 

Nothing is perfect, there was new guilt that crept in regarding not doing anything good enough, but this feeling. The isolating intensity of those early years has evolved into a balanced professional and home life that centers around no one thing. Re-entering the workforce didn’t just focus my career; it helped me find my sense of self and accomplishment and made me a better and more supportive parent and partner. 

Do my teenage boys care about my personal growth or activism? Probably not, but my hope is that one day they will recognize that life offers lots of opportunities to contribute to our society, and they can continually evaluate their career choices and pivot when they need to. My even bigger hope is that they see women as multidimensional, complicated, and capable of great things and will actively seek to take down the patriarchy.  

Now, I lead a state program to address gun violence. I have work and time that provides me with a sense of passion and purpose. This reframes the time with my children and family as less oppressive and more enjoyable. I’m not someone’s mother, I am a whole person with many dimensions. I wish for every mother to have an opportunity to find the path that brings them a sense of wholeness so they have something true to give to their kids.

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