Daring Greatly

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

- President Theodore Roosevelt

Postpartum is rough. It's one of the realities of childbirth that is often glossed over, often thought of as something that happens to other people. 

(For the record, I never gloss it over; I tell my friends. I talk about it. The more we talk about it, the more we normalize it, and the more the tribe of mom can help those new to our tribe adjust and seek help.)

I recently had my second child and, blessed with 16 weeks of paid maternity leave, was looking forward to the time away from work to cuddle a baby. Without going into too many details, I wasn't happy at work. It was an unpleasant situation, compounded by a long commute, and company culture I struggles to find a place in. This was going to be a great reset. I had plans. I had goals. I was returning to a new role, billed to me as a perfect fit. I had pepped talked myself to the brink...brink of what, I am not sure, but I was pepped... and looking for rainbows. 

Then postpartum hit... hit harder and longer than with my first. It took all the lies I had been telling myself, all the positive things I had been focusing on, and mixed them in with all my feelings of shortcomings, added a little mommy guilt, garnished it with sleep depravation and broke me down nearly to the bedrock.

Luckily, I have hit bedrock before in the last decade. I know how it looks. I know what it feels like. And at this point, I have the strength to start looking up. I also have an amazing life partner, a fleet of mom friends who keep me in check (see the power of the tribe of mom), and an amazing collection of friends who routinely step in and help you find the way in the dark. 

So, when I found myself sobbing, baby in my arms, thinking and saying out loud - and eventually to my unfailingly supportive husband:

"I just need it to be okay to fail. I need it to be okay that I have tried and it is not working out. I need it to be okay that I can't make it work. I need it to be okay to fail."

I found release. I sobbed over it for a few more weeks. I turned it over and over. I thought all the things moms think when we are feeling the weight of mom guilt, when we are feeling like we aren't doing enough. Then I found a way to let it go ... I decided that I needed a plan and I needed to give myself permission to be a failure. It was life-changing, both as a mom and as a professional.

I went back to work with a plan. Not a great plan, but a plan. I like plans... Shit, very simply put, hit the fan. I put my foot in it; I rolled around in it. And when I felt all was lost, I found myself at the Central Exchange's Women's Leadership Lyceum. 

The theme this year was "Rise Up to the Challenge." All day long, I heard about making bold goals and running after them. I heard strong, inspiring speakers with empowering advice, and for once in my life, I was in the perfect place to really hear them.

I sat "marred by dust and sweat and blood," ready to stop being timid and find my own way to dare greatly.

I did just that. A new job opportunity landed in my lap. One that will hopefully give me the work life balance I need to pursue some long put off goals. If I hadn't gone through all those feelings I had been feeling and if I hadn't given myself permission to accept a perceived failure, I would never have said yes. I am glad I did. 

I am saying good-bye to the company I have worked for since 2007, my first "professional" gig. It's terrifying, but I am done being terrified of the unknown. I am tired of staying with what I know because it's what I know. It's time to, once more, proudly be... the man (or person) in the arena. A return to the fearless dreamer I once was. 

I am looking at gaining two to three more hours back in my day. I am looking at the potential that they hold. I am going back to school to finish up a degree program I have been chipping away at for ages... I am making a list of bold goals and am making plans to achieve them. I am working on living the spirit of the above quote. I can't wait to see what happens as a result.

​- Kate