What Working Moms Really Want

 

If I could write a letter to Santa for Mother’s Day on behalf of all moms out there, I’d ask for just these ten things:

1.  An end to the “mommy wars” and universal gratitude for the moms who’ve opted for full-time parenting, because without them there would be no Teacher Appreciation Days, no booster clubs, no cookie sales, no field trips (duh, no chaperones), no one to take an aging mother to the doctor, and no rides home when a neighborhood kid misses the late bus.

2.  A boss who values quality over quantity, and who understands that someone who gets all of her work done in six hours might just be hugely efficient and smart, rather than underemployed and, therefore, overpaid.

3.  Co-workers who support a mom’s priorities, such as getting to the game before kick-off, or being assistant Girl Scout leader, rather than begrudging her the “time off”. [see the quality vs. quantity idea above]

4.  HR professionals who see an employment gap as something to be lauded and praised, rather than as a bar to career advancement.

5.  A supportive and true partner who sees socks that need picking up, and picks them up; who cooks regularly; who cleans without prompting; who changes diapers; who fetches a teenager who calls from a party after midnight; who thinks the mom in the house is the most amazing, gorgeous woman on the planet. And tells her so. Frequently.

6.  Equal pay for equal work.

7.  Sensible yet stylish shoes that can go from pre-school drop off to the office and on to evening ballet lessons without prompting bunions, callouses or plantar fasciitis. [dreaming big here]

8.  Girlfriends who support the mom-part of their friends, and who willingly allow children to call them “Aunt”.

9.  Space and time for moms to learn, grow, rest and rejuvenate. Space and time for them to receive as an antidote for all the giving they do.

10.  A communal sense of pride, meaning and purpose in the life of a mother, who manages to work/start a business/run a family/bake cupcakes at the last minute/smile/love/find the shoes/plan the summer camp schedule, and do it with grace (most of the time), flair (some of the time) and true genuine caring (always).

Yes, it’s Mother’s Day, but you can play Santa by simply checking off one or two of these items for the mom in your life – and you might want to start with the picking up the socks thing.

You can trust me on that one.

The Roots of Shame

 

 

Let me throw some stats at you:

The average American woman stands five foot four and weighs 164.7 pounds. She wears a size 14. Her waist measures 37 inches.

The average American man stands five foot nine and weighs 195 pounds. He wears a size 44. His waist measures nearly 40 inches. (CDC stats)

And,

The recent economic downturn hit men harder than women. Forbes says, “The share of men in the United States with a job is at its lowest point ever.” And forty percent of working wives are the family breadwinner according to the Chicago Tribune.

Now, allow me to pull in some other interesting data for your perusal. According to research at Boston College, the accepted societal norms for women are to be:

Nice.

Thin.

Modest.

Use all available resources on her appearance.

Men are supposed to:

Be in emotional control.

Put work first.

Pursue status.

Be violent.

I learned this from a powerful and straightforward new TED talk by Dr. Brene Brown on the subject of shame, and vulnerability.

What got me thinking while viewing Dr. Brown’s new talk is the wide gap between what we expect ourselves to be and who we really are.

Women should be thin – but the reality is that most of us are not a size zero.

Men should put work first, and pursue status, but the recent recession put more men out of work than ever before. Hard to put something first when you don’t have it, huh?

Women should be modest, which I figure means quiet, self-effacing and non-confrontational. Exactly the recipe for career success, don’t you think?

And speaking of time, what working mom has the time or energy to put all available resources on her appearance? I don’t know about you but I find it’s easy to spend money on my kids’ clothes, shoes, haircuts, dermatologists, orthodontists and dentists, and if there’s any money left maybe I’ll get myself a new t-shirt on sale at Target. Maybe.

Yes, the gap between who society says we should be and who we are is often quite large.

And it’s right in the gap that shame nestles.

Shame keeps us a far distance from feeling real happiness and fulfillment. Because it’s shame that says, “There is something profoundly, critically wrong with you. You should be different than you are. ”

[There's that word again - Should.]

You all know I have no fondness for that particular word. Because The Word That Must Not Be Named usually comes from an external source, and often is in conflict with what’s truly best for us.

“You should be a doctor.” says your father, even if you have it in your heart and hands to be a glassblower.

“You should be thin if you ever want to catch a husband,” says your mother, even if she’s heavy herself. And her sisters are heavy. And her mother was heavy.[ And they're all married, btw.]

If shame has roots in the conflict between what’s expected and what’s real, then shoulds are its potting soil.

Now, here’s what I know – if you can break the Should Habit, you’ve got a shot at breaking the round-and-round shame circle.

And it’s easy. Stop shoulds by simply substituting a wonderful word – choose.

Without any shoulds in your life, you are free to choose to be that happy, outspoken size 14 bread-winning woman that you are.

Without any shoulds in your life, you are free to choose to be that fantastic at-home dad whose size 44 suits found a new home at Goodwill.

Without shoulds, you can be you. Finally. Without any shame.

That’s what I choose. How about you?

 

300 Daggone Blog Posts

This is my 300th blog post.

Three hundred.

That’s three hundred Sundays. Three hundred individual posts of about 600 words each – more than 180,000 words over the last six years.

And, upon review, probably at least ten thousand exclamation points! [What can I say, I'm enthusiastically excitable!]

That first post, on October 26, 2006, didn’t even have a title.  It just said:

“Each week, I’ll be writing here on a topic of interest. As an Executive Life Coach, I work everyday with people who question whether they’re in the right job — or the right relationship. They ask how they can have more satisfaction in their lives, how they can be clear on their values and goals, how they can find and live their passions…

I’ll be addressing these things and others — so check back in every Monday for thoughts, tips and resources to help you make the most of your life!”

[Note how I laid down an exclamation point right at the end - first of many, obviously.]

The next blog post, Context is Everything, makes me wince, and squinch up my eyes like I do when I hear nails on chalkboard. Perhaps I’m like those actors who can’t bear to watch themselves on film – frankly, I prefer to write, get it out there and not look back. Re-reading this one, I sense my first-time uncertainty, anxiety, worry, what-the-hell-am-I-doing fear. Poor little old nervous 2006 me.

But you have to start somewhere, and that was my start.

People often ask me how I can write 600 words every week for so many years. Where do the ideas come from? What’s my process?

I usually make up an elaborate story about struggle, sacrifice, and angst (and pirates or Vikings) that seems to satisfy them, they go away and I feel extremely relieved.

Because the truth is, I have a weird process – if you can even call it that.

Here’s what I do: I start looking for a topic in the beginning of the week. I keep my ears open and hear what my clients and friends are talking about. Throughout the week, I turn ideas over and play with phrases and concepts.

And then on Saturday, or even Sunday, I sit down to write. Doesn’t take too long.

Because it’s pretty much fully written in my head.

When I look at that very first post – where I promised to write on topics of interest to you – kind of astounding in retrospect that I’ve hewed pretty close to those subjects for nearly six years.

And I appreciate each of you who read what I write. I appreciate your kind notes to me after you’ve read something I’ve posted. I appreciate the thoughtful comments you leave at michelewoodward.com.

I love when you suggest topics.

I really love that.

But most of all, I so very deeply appreciate that every week you invite me into your lives. You allow me to share my thoughts, my learning and my experience. You give me a place to be fully myself, and I write each week in the hope that you can have a place to be fully yourselves, too.

Yes, writing this blog has taken focus, and diligence, and – sometimes – courage.

But it’s been fun. And I’ve liked it. And you seem to like it.

So I’ll make this deal with you: If you’ll keep having me, I’ll keep going.

Who knows where the next 300 Sundays will take us, but it’ll be so great to get there together.

Exclamation point.

 

 

A Happy You = A Less Stressed You

 

 

I wish you had been a fly on the wall.

Five women – smart, accomplished, professionals – sat around the room with the look of astonished recognition on their faces.

Because they had collectively realized that none of them gave themselves credit for what they’d accomplished, but, rather, focused solely on where they fell short.

That’s like saying, “Sure, I climbed Mt. Everest, but I could have had better shoes.”

I’m reading Rick Hanson’s book Just One Thing – a helpful, practical book with instructions on how to use your thoughts to change your brain function – and even your neurological structures – by approaching problems, situations and general living in a slightly different way.

Hanson quotes John Gottman’s famous research which found that “the brain generally reacts more to a negative stimulus than to an equally intense positive one.” And researcher Roy Baumeister found that “painful experiences are usually more memorable than pleasurable ones.”

So my five stressed-out professional women were absolutely normal when they downplayed their achievements and focused on their lack.

But.

What makes for happiness?

“…sense of security and worth, resilience, effectiveness, well-being, insight, and inner peace,” offers Rick Hanson. Which sounds just about right.

So, our innate human default – to focus on what’s not working – totally undermines our ability to feel happy…

Wait a minute. You want to feel happy, don’t you?

Of course you do, unless…you don’t.

Unless “Me As A Happy Person” totally conflicts with the self-image you have of yourself. Or the self-image handed to you by your family, your schoolmates or pop culture.

Think about it. Maybe you were told that “happy” is frivolous. All that matters is work. Work for work’s sake. Eat what you kill. Climb the ladder until you’re at the top. Strive and struggle, and keep pushing. You can be “happy” when you’re retired.

Or maybe you were told that “happy” is for other people. Other people who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and had everything handed to them. You know, the ones living on Easy Street. You – with your immigrant grandparents, and up-from-the-gutter family history – you have to work for whatever you get. “Happy” – pfffft. For someone else.

But here’s the intriguing thing.

Think about the children in your life. Do you want them to be happy?

How about your dearest family members? What would you do to insure their happiness?

And your best friend. What do you want for him, or for her? Would you call it happiness? Do you do what you can to help them achieve it?

Of course you do. You’re a devoted spouse, a good mom, a good dad, a great friend, a wonderful son or daughter. I know you.

You want the people you love to be happy. But you’re not really happy yourself.

So…you want for others what you deny yourself.

Innnnnteresting, huh?

Friends, it’s time to change that up.

Promise me this: Promise me that starting today, you’ll begin to wish for yourself that which you’d wish for someone you love. That you will begin to show yourself the same compassion you show others. That you will own your successes and celebrate them.

That you will begin a healthy love relationship – with you.

By doing so, you will literally change the wiring in your brain from nearly-always-negative to nearly-always-positive, and reduce your stress.

You will start being happy.

And after you’ve done that, the rest of living is all a piece of cake.

 

 

On Being Kind

 

 

Meaning and purpose.

Integrity.

The power of choice.

Defeating stress.

How to listen.

These are all topics you and I have been talking together about so far this year. All topics I think are vital for success in today’s world of work. And there’s another important one I want to raise with you right now:

It helps to be kind.

I know, I’m a hopeless optimist. Because we all know, as Leo Durocher famously said, “Nice guys finish last”. Guess what? A new study even seems to support that idea. The study found that disagreeable men made about $10,000 more a year than more agreeable men.

The big difference between agreeable people and disagreeable people seems to be the extent to which agreeable folks will go to preserve relationships. Agreeable people will bend over backwards to prevent discord, difficult conversations or hard feelings.

And often lose something important in the attempt. When I’m overly agreeable, I lose my autonomy. My personhood. My ability to think for myself. My ability to advocate for myself.

Hey, I don’t want you to lose. Really. So let me offer a slight re-definition and shift that might give you a different perspective.

You see, in my mind, there’s an important difference between being overly agreeable and being kind.

It’s kind to offer advice, support and guidance to someone as they work through a challenging project at work.

It’s overly agreeable when  I take over the project at the last moment when you drop the ball – and you take full credit for the end result.

It’s kind when I give a chance to a kid looking for her first job.

It’s overly agreeable when I make room for the Area Vice President’s shiftless, idiot nephew in my department.

It’s kind to remind the boss when I’m going to be on vacation, and create a plan to make sure everything’s covered in my absence.

It’s overly agreeable to take work with me on vacation.

It’s kind when I quietly draw you aside and whisper that you have spinach in your teeth.

It’s overly agreeable to pick the spinach out for you.

Note the distinction?

That’s why the modern workplace could use more kindness and less at “any costs” agreeableness. I’m not saying we go all Meryl-Streep-in-The-Devil-Wears-Prada – in fact, the economic difference between agreeable and disagreeable women in the study was negligible. Researchers remind women: “Nice girls might not get rich, but ‘mean’ girls do not do much better. Even controlling for human capital, marital status, and occupation, highly disagreeable women do not earn as much as highly agreeable men.”

The thing is this: too many of us – overly agreeable men and agreeable women – bring to work all of our childhood “stuff” about being good and making everything right and smoothing relationships so no one yells at us, or tells us we’re big disappointments, or grounds us on Homecoming weekend.

We operate from fear, people. Which puts us at a disadvantage right from the start.

We’ve got to knock that off. Right away.

Because overly agreeable men and overly agreeable women lose when we mistake agreement with kindness. We lose money, we lose opportunity, we lose values, we lose ownership, we lose, lose, lose.

So, let’s re-define.  Kindness means:

Having an opinion.

Listening to the opinions others and respectfully disagreeing if that’s the way it is.

Saying no sometimes.

Saying yes only sometimes.

Appropriately helping.

Taking the risk to be fully yourself.

Truly kind leaders – regardless of their position on the org chart – are the ones we all remember. They’re the ones we are grateful to. Who are our most memorable mentors.

They’re the ones who make a difference.

Know what? That can be you.

You can leave a truly indelible legacy.

It all starts with kindness.

 

Photo credit: Michele Woodward