How often do you sit in autopilot and tolerate the things around you?
5 years ago, this was me. I was working as a manager in a large organization. The only place nursing women could pump milk was in a cut-out between two dirty shower stalls. The room was dark, smelled like mildew, and required a sign-up process to reserve the space. Moms would plug into the wall, and while listening to the rhythmic sounds of their pumps, could count bugs that crawled up and down the walls around them. Overall, it was just super unpleasant. But at least it was a space to pump, which felt like a blessing, so I clocked the experience as just part of the process of being a working mom. Demanding better wasn’t even on my radar. I tolerated it because I didn’t know NOT tolerating it was an option.
And then something changed.
One day, the dirty curtain that was used as a privacy barrier between a pumping mother and person showering was replaced. The new curtain that showed up was a half curtain, one that didn’t hang low enough to cover the flanges on a breast pump. Sure, maybe the moms face was covered, but anyone who walked in to grab a shower got an automatic ticket to a mommy peep show.
Bye bye privacy, hello anger. I got mad that day. Really mad. That half curtain wasn’t just a blunder made by admin services. It was negligence that awakened something inside of me that I had been ignoring for months – I wasn’t fine. In fact, nothing was fine. It made me evaluate the much larger picture. If I had been tolerating this, what else had I been accepting as good enough? What else was happening in the system around me that was making it impossible to feel effective? I was done tolerating the status quo.
So, I started questioning everything and forced myself to get present to my working motherhood life. Along with a dismal pumping option, I was experiencing the many other penalties that come with being a mom is corporate America – things like zero paid maternity leave, fewer promotion options, a less competitive salary, and lower perceived commitment (I once heard a director refer to working moms as being on the “mommy train” and therefore, not hirable). I was also completely wrapped up in my own stories about how I should be experiencing working motherhood. I needed to be perfect at home and perfect and work. Neither are attainable of course, which left defeat and failure as regular emotions I was experiencing.
My point here isn’t to speak poorly about a previous employer – in fact, it’s just the opposite. I have gratitude for my experience at that company. I met incredible people that still enrich my life to this day, my work was meaningful, and my professional growth was immense.
So, what is my point?
It’s simple….two things can be true at the same time. Yes, I was grateful for my job. And, at the same time, I was unhappy and tolerating a lot of nonsense.
· Tolerating being exhausted all the time.
· Tolerating frustration, resentment, and overwhelm.
· Tolerating not having enough support.
· Tolerating status quo and “it’s always been this way.”
This is no way to live.
I’m several years removed from that time in my life. Looking back, I wish I could coach that tired and angry mom. I’d support her as she moved herself to the top of her priority list. I’d remind her she has ultimate say over how she experiences her life. I’d empower her to want and demand more. I’d tell her it seems scary, but all her possibility lives on the other side of fear.
And for anyone who’s curious, the tale of the half curtain does have a tasty ending. Shortly after this picture was taken, I marched my swollen post-partum feet up to the c-suite and demanded a better solution for nursing mothers. It took several months and lots of meetings with me saying things like “empty the breast” and “safe place to expose nipples” to very uncomfortable old white men, but eventually, they heard me. An unused storage room was converted into a permanent lactation room. A dedicated refrigerator and sink, 3 pumping stations, and a lockable door ended up being the beginning of my fight for moms. I learned during that process how wonderful it felt to be a voice for women. I also learned that advocacy and demanding more from broken and outdated systems was something I needed to integrate into my career path.
And that’s the beginning of KMH leadership.
Thank goodness for that ridiculous half curtain and the awakening that arrived with it.
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