I finally scheduled the procedure to have a fatty lump taken off my belly this week. I’ll spare you the gory details. But while the surgeons had the scalpel poised over my belly, he asks me, “Do you work?”. I said not in a traditional job but I do work. “Are you a housewife?”, he asks. I respond that this phrase is outdated. “Well what do you call it then? “ he says. Homemaker? Domestic Engineer?
I found myself explaining that I work very hard to maintain our life and our home plus am a writer, but that old nagging self-worth question about being defined by your earning power is still a part of me. I came of age in the 80’s. Bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan. And never let him forget he’s a man
The question is triggering for me because I am uncertain of me. Remember I just went through this with Fiona in this piece. Who cares if he’s a chauvinist. That’s his wife’s problem. What all of this points out to me is that I need to be in a place where I feel certain of the value of what I do. Where I know my own value and do not question it.
I consider myself a Mindful Mother. To me, success is raising kids who will be proud of who they become. Kids who are gracious and self-assured, kind and smart. I am a Homebody. I love to make my nest pretty and mostly prefer to spend a day at home alone than anywhere else. I work very hard to create an environment that’s clean, creative, and happy for me and my family and that’s no small feat in a nasty old house built in the 1870’s.
So it would seem that I need to write myself a better elevator speech so that in the future when I’m asked what I do for a living, I can recite a clever and insightful speech on my worth as a human being. Or I can just tell them it’s none of their business.
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