International Women's Day

This morning after opening my Facebook feed, I quickly learned today is International Women’s Day. How cool, I thought, we get a whole freaking day!

Unimpressed.

Anyway, during my commute, I got to thinking about this whole international women’s day thing, and I decided to jot down some of my thoughts about an aspect of womanhood that has been causing me anxiety lately: motherhood. Specifically, the guilt that comes along with it.

Lately, I often find myself feeling guilty. I have been concerned that I’m spending too much on my own self-care. I think to myself, should cut back and work out less, spend less time on my hobbies in order to focus more on my kids’ needs?

It is true that lately all the things on my plate have become a little overwhelming. Not only am I training for Boston, but I’m rehabbing a significant injury while trying to do it. In addition to my workouts which take at least an hour every day, I’m also now having to fit weekly appointments with a physical therapist, acupuncturist, and chiropractor into my schedule. Plus all the stretches, exercises, icing, and Epsom salt baths at home ordered by those providers. Actually, I can’t believe how much has been required to get my leg back to its working form. Although I was told that a torn quadriceps muscle would require a few weeks off and then I’d be back at it, I ended up having to take six weeks off of running. I cannot overemphasize the mental and emotional strain this has put on me. I am very grateful for my ability to swim laps instead of running, but with the marathon looming closer and closer, my inability to run has caused some serious emotional strain, which has also strained my relationships. I have invested a great deal of time, money, and emotional energy in this race. I have family coming into Boston specifically to see me in the race, and I don’t want to let them down if I can’t perform as well as I’d like. I also don’t want to let down the nearly 150 donors who have so far contributed to my charity.

So it’s been tough. On top of my running woes, I have an autistic son. And my daughter, Lizzy, is now going through a rough patch behaviorally at school and home. I find myself feeling guilty; and although I know many moms feel the same, I believe most fathers do not have this reaction to parenting difficulties. Yes, I’m sure men think, Wow, I’m working full time, try to spend time with my friends, I work out a lot, and it is really hard to keep up with everything. But they do not think to themselves: that is precisely why my kids are struggling. But for me, when I think about my kids’ problems, my natural answer is that it is all my fault. And that I need to give up something more than I already have about myself so my kids will be ok. I blame myself. For all of it. I feel like my daughter is being badly behaved because of me. My house is a mess because of me. Lizzy isn’t sleeping well at night because of me. Sully got strep throat this week because of me. As I was writing this blog, my husband informed me that Sully was deeply upset that we didn’t send him to school with money for the book fair. I didn’t know there was a book fair. I can’t keep up with all the notices and emails coming from the schools about all the events. I don’t think, my husband should have known there was a bookfair. I think, I am the mom. It is MY job to know these things and I have failed.

And yes, deep down I worry Sully is autistic because of me. Was there something I did when I was pregnant to make him develop this? I can’t help but feel, in my dark moments, that every study about ASD seems to involve what the moms did while pregnant. People have asked me if I had drank while pregnant with him, if I took prenatal vitamins, if I had the flu, if I got immunizations. How could I not feel like it’s my fault? No one has ever asked Kevin what he did while I was pregnant with Sully. Nobody cares that he was out partying with his friends, having a grand ‘ole time. Nope. And that is why he doesn’t worry it’s his fault. But I sometimes do.

I have a high stress, full time job with a three-hour commute. I am a wife, a mother, a homeowner, a dog owner, I’m training for the Boston Marathon, and I’m raising money for charity. It’s a lot. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is my partner and pulls his fair share. He does a lot with the kids and around the house. But my point is that society does not put the same pressures, assumptions, and unconscious bias on him. Therefore, he does not add to his plate the stress, anxiety, and guilt that I carry with me always. Because he is a man, he will never have this added, major strain that comes along with parenthood for women.

Over the last few weeks, I have found myself asking, should I give up what I love, the things that fulfill me, so that I can be a better mom?

And the answer I always come up with is no, I just can’t do that.

I think to myself, if you give up your physical fitness, then what kind of an example does that set for your children? I don’t want my kids to think that they are the king and queen of the household, and that my primary purpose in life is to serve them. Plus, I want them to think of me as more than just

Me and Misty Copeland twinning - this was taken right
after I tore my quad on a 13 mile training run. I didn't
know then exactly what had happened, but I knew
something was very wrong.

“mom.” I am a whole person, and I want them to know that person. I want them to be proud of me and I want them to see me striving for my own well being and personal goals. I think that maybe they’ll want to do the same in the future. I also know that one of these days, my kids will be gone and I need to have hobbies and interests to feel fulfilled at that point.

Both of these points are true. I don’t want to give up my hobbies and well being because I want to be a good example for my kids. I also want to still have myself and my hobbies after my kids are grown. But my gut reaction to name these reasons first begs another question. What is so wrong with me wanting to do things I enjoy simply because I like them? Why can I do these things, not for my kids, but for no one other than me?

As women, even when making justifications for taking care of ourselves, we typically cite our children as our number one reason for self-care. Why not choose to take care of ourselves for selfish reasons? I want to run because I fucking like it. I want to take care of myself because dammit, I am worth taking care of. I want to push myself to run ultras because I never thought I could do them before and I like the way that feels. I like accomplishing things at 35 I couldn’t do at 25. You know what I want to do after Boston? I want to run further than I ever have before – I’ve set my sights on a 40 mile trail race in summer 2019. And after that, I’m going to dip my toes in the open water for my first triathlon. And I’m going to do it for a lot of reasons – for my kids, for my husband, but most of all, for me.

So happy international women’s day. Being a woman shouldn’t have to mean you’re also a mother. Being a mother shouldn’t have to mean that is the only thing you are. I am a mother, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister, an employee, a runner, a swimmer, a singer, a knitter, a reader, a crafter, a cake decorator, and so much more than that. I am a woman. I am me, and I won’t apologize for it.