Lisa for Real

Ending Martyrdom

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matyrdom“I’m a mother! I don’t have time for that!”

Have you ever caught yourself saying those words? Maybe to your friends? Your husband? Or even yourself?

I did just that this week, and it was a huge wake up call.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have felt very unfocused and tired.

I have been working on a couple of side projects while balancing work and life with an increasingly clever and active toddler. My goals in all areas have been building up on my to-do list and I cannot scratch them off soon enough.

In a Facebook business group that I’m a part of, someone posted “Where are you feeling like you need the most help and/or guidance in your business right now?” (I love being part of Facebook groups to get support!)

I replied, “Staying focused. I’m feeling overwhelm from how much I need to do and burnout from working full time and side hustling.”

Another member responded and asked me what I am doing in terms of self care. Her exact words were, “What is your self care practice?”

I let out a BIG scoff.

My immediate response was, “Self care practice? I’m a mom trying to start a business. I don’t have time for self care!”

I stopped in my tracks and thought, “Yikes! That is my problem!”

My busy-ness has crowded out what should be a top priority – my self care.

I have completely ignored my self care in the name of progress, and ironically, it is my lack of self care that is holding me back from progressing in my work.

My meditation practice is non-existent at this point and going to yoga feels like visiting a foreign land. I find myself going to bed at 1:00 AM or 2:00 AM. And even when I get into bed, I play a couple of rounds of Candy Crush before shutting my phone down because I need to “unwind” before bed. Oh the shame in admitting that!

That Facebook post was my wake up call.

I have a false belief that suffering must be part of my journey to greatness.

Logically, I know better but a deep part of me sees it as a requirement to “make it.” This is definitely one of my biggest forms of self sabotage, and since becoming a mother, it seems to have magnified. Can you relate to that?

Mothers and entrepreneurs are suckers for martyrdom. As I straddle both worlds, I have definitely doubled down on the “woe is me” attitude. But I know it doesn’t have to be that way.

I need a plan to combat that attitude.

First things first, I need to return to meditating. I have let my need for busy-ness take over and not meditating has amplified the busy thoughts in my mind. The goal is 10 minutes daily, and I have a friend I’m checking in with to hold me accountable.

Second, I need to stop wearing “busy” as a badge of honor. Busy is a choice and a poor excuse. I need to stop being too “busy” to meditate, go to yoga, sleep, read a romance novel, spend time with my husband, and buy new clothes. These are all things that I have de-prioritized in the name of progress. One way to remove that badge is to remove “busy” from my vocabulary. I have actually heard my daughter use it several times to pre-empt my saying it, and it feels like nails on a chalkboard. I need to be a better model for my daughter.

Lastly, I need to re-frame how I think about time. I am and will always be an impatient person. When I start a project, I want it to have already come to fruition and to meet my goals so I can move to the next thing. However, time is the ultimate equalizer. We all have 24 hours in a day, and as much as I want to manipulate time to my advantage, I can’t add any more hours to my days. I need to work within the confines of 24 hours and 7 hours of that being for sleep. Also, my projects deserve all of the time they need to be created. I need to take the approach of slow and steady wins the race and any other way leads to burnout.

On my third Mother’s Day, I pledge to release my martyrdom.

I want to enjoy my motherhood and I want to enjoy my journey into entrepreneurship. It does not serve me or any other women out there to justify suffering as a requirement to achieve our goals and it does not serve our children either. Will you join me in unlatching and releasing those shackles and truly embracing the journey?

Inspiration: This post’s inspiration came from a very uninspired week. I had been feeling a bit of blah (apparently, there is a lot going on astrologically) and this conversation on Facebook really made me come to my senses. Letting go of my beliefs around suffering, busy-ness, and time will be a many year journey but I feel with these three things, I’m on the right path.

Reclaiming Pink

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Embracing PinkIf you told me last year that I would have a personal blog, one that is all about ME, with a lot of pink on it, much less a logo with pink, I would scoff. Not a polite, hidden-under-my-hand, pretend-sneeze kind of scoff but an emphatic one, bordering on a grunt, and definitely followed with a “ha” in disbelief.

Pink and I were never friends.

I grew up a tomboy, keeping pace with my brother and 3 boy cousins as we played wiffleball in my backyard and touch football in the front. I was as tough as they come (or so I thought) and Pink was way too girly for me.

I always saw Pink as frou-frou, frilly and frankly, weak. I was above Pink; she was not going to define me or my child. When I was creating the baby registry for my daughter, I chose as many green, yellow and grey items as possible. I gave my mother-in-law a hard time for getting my daughter a pink poofy dress, and unapologetically asked her to return another pink dress that she got my daughter. I look back on those instances embarrassed of myself for many reasons.

My temperament on Pink has changed in the past year. What I have come to realize is that I don’t actually dislike Pink, the color, I hate the commercialization of Pink and what companies have made it out to be.

Let’s face it, Pink has been whored out.

Sweet, innocent, beautiful Pink. Corporations have used and abused her for their own gain. So that they could claim more market share, take advantage of female buying power, and make it easier for men to get women gifts. Fun fact: women drive 70-80% of all consumer spend!

Those companies think that by wrapping their products in pretty pink bows, tiaras and sparkles, they can be made more appealing to the feminine spirit. Or even worse, make the buyer think that they are supporting a cause for women. I’m looking at you Breast Cancer Awareness Month!

Let's face it, Pink has been whored out. Click To Tweet

 

Corporate use of Pink leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Deceiving consumers. Pigeonholing and stereotyping women. Making little girls look outside of themselves to fit in. I love the business world but damn its capitalistic ways that bastardized Pink!

In reality, Pink is the all unifying color.

Every person, Black, White, Asian, Latina, young, old, healthy and sick, is Pink. Give each one of us a paper cut and you will see the real Pink that is our flesh. We have come to forget this and think Pink lives outside of ourselves.

Pink is within. It is our strength, our tenderness, and our humanity.

I want to tell little girls, embrace Pink but embrace the Pink within yourselves, not the shades that adorn dolls and plastic toys. Don’t let a color, any color, define who you are. Don’t fall prey to think that embracing Pink instantly makes you more girly.

Pink is defined by the person wearing it, using it, even coloring with it – not the company that puts it on its products.

Wearing pink is a form of self-expression and if you want to wear it, do it in your own style. And if you are feeling pink one day and hunter green the next, it’s a-okay.

Let’s empower our little girls to embrace Pink the right way.

Tell them and help them to get in touch with their inner self and to look inside to understand what true beauty is and to understand the power that Pink represents, the tremendous power that they possess.

On my motherhood journey, one of the most surprising outcomes is my reclaiming Pink. Having my daughter, I know better. I have seen that it is natural for us to choose Pink, just as it is natural to choose blue or red or brown. Pink is a pretty sassy color but can also be soft and feminine. Why wouldn’t we want to wear it?

I do not want to be the one defining whether or not my daughter is girly enough to wear Pink. I want to teach her that wearing Pink and being a girl are two different things.

How about you? Growing up, did you have a public aversion to Pink but privately loved it? Always hated it? Or have you always been a Pink kinda girl?

Pink isn't just for girly girls. Here's why I'm reclaiming pink. Click To Tweet

Second Generational Guilt

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Second Generational Guilt

I am wrought with second generational guilt.

I don’t know if that is the technical term for it, or if anyone has even coined a term for it but whatever you want to call it, I’ve got it.

And if you’ve got it too, you know exactly what I mean.

I feel guilty that…

…I was able to attain a college education when my mom had to stop her schooling in the middle of 4th grade to help her family on the farm.

…I sit on my butt in air conditioning while earning more in an hour than my mom made in a day when she first started working.

…I complain about said profession when my mom appreciated her manual job and never once uttered a negative word about it. Not. even. once.

…I give my husband a hard time for not writing me cards and giving me gifts when my mom took care of my sick father for years without ever asking for anything.

…I am on this endless search to “find myself” when my mom was happy to have a roof over her head and dinner on the table.

Who am I to want more…to earn more…to become more?

These questions have crept into my self-talk since I started working about ten years ago and started to really understand the struggles my mom had growing up in China and as an immigrant to the U.S. It has also been in the last ten years that I have “woken up” a bit and found my passions,wanted to start a business, and developed my sense of empathy. Those have all magnified the guilt.

In reality, I am truly a member of the privileged. I am reminded daily when I scroll through my Facebook feed. I have a steady paycheck, a home in an awesome city, and a beautiful family. I have an education and get to pursue learning everyday with a full bookshelf of unread books. How dare I want more?!

I have gotten angry with myself for being unappreciative and to be so consumed with such laughable first world problems.

As a mother now, I understand that my life and my problems are exactly what my mom wanted for me.

My mom never wanted me to have the struggles she faced. She wanted me to get a education. She wanted me to find a job in an office so I didn’t have to work overtime in a factory just to make ends meet. She wanted me to have more opportunities than her. And she did it in the most selfless way possible – uprooting her life from her familiar homeland to allow a better life for her children.

As a mother now, I understand that my problems are exactly what my mom wanted for me. Click To Tweet

So what am I to do with this second generational guilt?

The solution I have pursued over the past ten years has been to kick@$$ and start a business, make a lot of money and repay my mom for everything she has done. I have come to realize that this is way to much pressure to place on myself and it’s actually been stifling my progress. And more importantly, she does not want me to feel guilty, just as I’d never want my daughter to feel that way.

Instead, what I try to do now is honor her in whatever ways I can and to show her that I appreciate and love her. That means calling her more often, sending her pictures of my daughter, and inviting her to visit me. Those are the things that make her truly happy and I think if I do them more often, I will slowly chip away at this second generational guilt.

Do you experience second generational guilt? How do you remedy it?

Bubble Time Lesson

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bubble time lesson

Any mention of going outside or going to the park yields a single word exclamatory response from my one year old.

“Bubbles!”

Often it’s just a mention of the park and we are actually not going out. But she’s got a one track mind and her focus on bubbles does not waver as I try to change the subject or explain to her – “later, not now” or “when we get to the park, then we can do bubbles.” She won’t let up until we start heading out the door or something truly interesting captures her attention.

Despite the nagging ☺, going out and blowing bubbles for my daughter is precious time together. As I watched my daughter during bubble time today, I smiled in wonder and awe of her natural ability to be present.

I realized – you can’t not be present around bubbles.

Those little orbs are only around for a brief moment. Its iridescent beauty lives for a couple of seconds before it floats away or more likely is popped by little fingers trying to capture it. And you can’t lament its end.

That is the bubble’s purpose.

To provide that momentary joy. To induce squeals and the pitter patter of little feet chasing it.

No tears or sadness are had when a bubble’s life is ended because my daughter knows that there is more where it came from. More joy, more beauty, more fun. And she insists on it as she requests“More? More?” without a second thought of the bubble that just came and went.

Mommy may not be able to re-create that 5 inch beauty ever again but that is okay with her.

There is just as much joy in the new bubbles as the old, no matter the size or how far it floats.

Presence is here all the time but it alludes me. I get wrapped up in thoughts of work, projects, chores, and other daily life stressors that pull me away from living in the now. I know I stand to be more present and make an almost daily pledge to meditate more. Until then, I have bubble time.

 

originally written: November 1, 2015

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