"It was everything I thought I had ever wanted-when I thought being a journalist was as much as I was allowed to want, the culmination of decades of graft, grit, and sacrifice. At the same time, I was caring for a baby, and every single notion I had about myself was crumbling. My previous desires and drive slipping through my fingers like a child's neon-coloured slime."
"When we'd moved, I'd had a picture of myself as a badass, girlboss, workin' mom who wears cool suits and goes to the office like la dee da, then picks up her baby with ease after a hard day at work and a casual glass of wine with colleagues. I'd said yes to the job thinking that, while motherhood had given me new insight into myself, I didn't need to let it completely change or unravel me."
My ambition took me from Toronto to London five months after childbirth for a digital commissioner role at a broadcaster in Oxford Circus. The role felt like the culmination of decades of graft, grit and sacrifice. Simultaneously I cared for a baby and found previous notions of myself crumbling as prior desires and drive slipped away. I had pictured being a stylish mother who could return to work without being undone by childbirth. I said yes believing motherhood would not completely change me. I commuted long, hot Tube journeys while breastfeeding and pumping in the office. A present, equitable partner cared for the baby, yet leaving each morning felt extremely hard and induced guilt.
Read at The Walrus
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