Recently, my husband and I had a discussion on whether I should go back to work. There was a job on offer in his office, and despite the uncertainty that spouses could work together, his supervisor was keen on the idea for me to put in my resume. Eager for some extra dollars, I gave my husband my resume. It was not until after I had done this (like always) that the doubts kicked in – could I really balance home, the kids, writing and University study with going back to work? Other mothers can do it, so why not me?
When my daughter started school, I had given serious thought to going back to work. I thought it would be easier with both the children at school; however I found it easier said than done. Try as I might, I could never score myself even an interview. Nobody seemed at all interested in a mother re-entering the workforce after nine years. What propelled me were the feelings of guilt whenever other mothers at my kids’ school discussed balancing home and work, all the while giving me filthy looks. Adding to the guilt was my mothers’ insistence over the years that any creative pursuit was not a ‘real’ job. I remember her telling me once, when I told her about wanting to write that ‘there’s no money in it’. She failed to understand that it was not really about the money, it was a need I had to fulfill. In a word, I felt driven.
Now, years later, once again in search of a ‘real job’, my husband and I came to the ultimate conclusion. He did not hand in my resume. Instead he handed it back to me, saying ‘I thought writing was your job’. He was right – it is my job. One in which I plan never to retire from. Despite being a lonely profession, there are not many people who can honestly say their hours are flexible and they have the freedom to work on anything they like. Writing is also darned hard work, but always challenging and very rewarding. I love my job. 🙂