What I want my daughters to remember about me pursuing my dream

About a month ago, my family helped me convert the playroom into a writing office.

My first-ever writing office. My first-ever claim to a physical territory representing the creative one I had long been staking out.

For so many years, I was afraid to make this claim, to bravely plant a flag in the physical sphere and say, “This is my space.”

Self-doubt, fear of failure, fear of selfish ambition held me back from making this claim.

(Read: Is My Dream Selfish Ambition?)

I felt I didn’t deserve to have a writing office. Continue reading “What I want my daughters to remember about me pursuing my dream”

‘Mommy, why do you work?”

 

She wrapped her arms around my waist. Tears pooled in her eyes.

“Mommy, why do you work?”

This was not the first time she has asked me that question. Not the first time she clung to me as I headed out the door to my part-time job.

My summer schedule of mostly afternoon and evening hours has been hard for her. For the first time, she does not have school to distract her from the fact I am not home. She sees that I’m not there.

She FEELS my absence. Continue reading “‘Mommy, why do you work?””