"Tonight I'm Pretending to Be a Businesswoman."
a reflection on missed opportunities and self-worth
“Mommy, where are you going?” my 5-year-old asked me last night.
I smoothed out my black midi dress and cardigan. “You know how you play dress-up, Lucy? I’m playing dress-up. Tonight I’m pretending to be a businesswoman.”
I parked at the downtown library and biked a mile to the luxurious co-working space that was hosting a free event that I registered for a couple months ago. I might be a stay-at-home mom, but I sure have interests, one of them being city planning. Ever since watching Jeff Speck’s TEDtalk and reading Walkable City several years ago, I’ve been eager to hear from this pioneer of the New Urbanism movement, and here he was, weighing in on my own beloved town for the first time.
I snagged some bougie (and free!) food in the lobby and started filling out a name tag. A tall, grey-haired man in a nice suit asked me, “Was that you I saw biking here?” I proudly owned up to it. (I had worn biking shorts under my classy dress, which only made me feel more cool.) He seemed impressed. I didn’t mention that I drove to my bike.
As I took my seat—third row, aisle, like the goody two-shoes student I’ll always be—I noticed that photographers kept getting pictures of that tall guy. He was apparently important. I Googled his name to discover he’s the president of the foundation that paid for this event and that funds a lot of the life-giving civic endeavors in our city. And he noticed me actually doing what all the urbanists are always advocating for. Boo-yah.
I looked around at all the smart, equity-minded people in our city and, in my own thoughts, pretended I was one of them. I let my imagination take over: Yeah, I work at a well-respected firm and have a Master’s in anthropology, actually. I live downtown—in a studio above the flower shop—and I have no clue how to cook because I’m always eating out on the company’s dime, hosting important meetings. I get paid to learn, think, share my ideas, and see things change for the better. Some of it’s boring, but it’s okay. I’m a hard worker, and I’m literally saving lives by making the city safer, more beautiful, and more accessible to all. Oh, and I’m super fit from all the walking and biking.
Jeff’s talk was even more amazing than I expected, but the only tool I had in my purse to take notes with was—I kid you not—a calligraphy pen and one of the kids’ yellow markers. I made it work, but the obvious mom-ness of the moment interrupted my little solo-woman-in-the-city fantasy a bit. (Plus, my notes are practically invisible; see below.) Jeff literally had four hundred slides, and it’s probably just because he’s a good communicator, but, like, I understood and was deeply interested in every single thing he talked about. I felt just as smart and capable as all the people in the room who actually have objective ways of measuring that they’re smart and capable. After the talk, I biked back to my car and went home to my family.
When you take the stay-at-home mom path when you’re only nineteen, being 31 can be a bit of a weird place. It’s simply too late for some things. Sure, I’m not too old to get a Master’s or have a city planning career or downtown lifestyle someday, but I am too old to do it at 30, and there isn’t a way to just be a city girl without all the encumbrances that come with having a family. One time a friend told me he had a lot of things he wanted to do before his hands were tied with children, but then his eyes widened in guilt as if that was a terribly rude thing to say to a drowning mother. I assured him, “No, you’re totally right. Parenting is amazing, but yeah, objectively, my hands are tied in a lot of ways.” It’s okay, but it’s true.
Even if the life you have is a very blessed one, some options are simply closed, at least for a season, and that can be uncomfortable for someone who got good grades and has seen a lot of Disney movies. I guess I always felt in my bones that every possible dream I have could and should come to fruition. That’s just not conducive to real life, though, and I come to accept this more and more through life experience and also by reading memoirs of people who, for example, grew up in China during Chairman Mao’s rule, and had very limited agency. Despite what The Little Mermaid modeled for me, people don’t usually get to sell their soul to a sea witch so they can be part of a different world.
It seems like a new thing for humans to see the world—and their future—as a blank canvas. What a wonderful gift to have the liberty to feel full of potential, but as we all know, it can so easily be distorted into entitlement and disempowerment. “Potential” and “opportunity” can be suffocating.
Matt Haig’s novel for adults, The Midnight Library, is so dang comforting, especially to people in their 30’s who sometimes secretly wonder if they’re missing out on a life that would’ve suited them better. In short, the protagonist had the opportunity to try out all the other different paths she might’ve taken, and as she lived the life of a rock star, a glaciologist, a winery owner, etc., she found disappointments in each one and, spoiler alert, embraced the beauty of her own life. Powerful quote from the book: “She learned that undoing regrets was a way of making wishes come true.”
I could have written a big ol’ article on the sovereignty and love of God. I believe it. But I also believe He smiles on my night as a businesswoman and I know He’s right here with me as I wrestle. I know that I am beloved, a masterpiece, etc., but my thoughts and feelings often take their sweet ol’ time catching up. Thankfully Jesus isn’t waiting until my thought life is perfectly optimized to love me or be with me. That’s why He freaking came here, after all.
Next week I’ll share a Part 2 about how much I really do feel smart and capable (and happy) in motherhood, and how feelings of night don’t last forever. I hope these posts encourage you, even if your life stage is the opposite of mine and you fantasize about having taken a domestic path, or anything else that makes you wonder about the could-have-beens. See you next week.
Love,
Hope
P.S. Here are some photos from the past few weeks!
I love this post so much, Hope! And I've just added The Midnight Library to my Audible library. Thank you as always for sharing your thoughts, words of wisdom, and recommendations.
Super interesting post, Hope. Like that you are in that space, city planning(know nada about!) but influencing/reimaginating city function; how cool is that.
Saw 'A Million Miles Away' last night, about a migrant farm worker who ultimately becomes a crew member on the space shuttle. His father coached him to learn what you don't know; and he just picked up skills as opportunity allowed.
You're who you are, and then so relevant to the future you are envisioning. You're in the perfect place! And the providence and sovereignty thing, for sure!
Awesome pictures! Thanks Hope!