Having a baby was fine, it was going back to work that broke me
The people pleaser's guide to returning to work after maternity leave
A few weeks before I was due to return to work after a year spent on maternity leave, I went to a class at my local parenting group about (no surprises here) how to return to work after having a kid. It was during this class that I realised that things weren’t going to go very well.
You see, a year off with a little baby that needed me all day, every day, had really fulfilled me. I’m one of those people that is so focussed on what those around me need, I’ll pass you something before you realise you need it. A people pleaser, if you will. Sometimes I'm helpful, other times, I'm downright annoying. I know it can be irritating because it does my nut in when others pull this same move on me. I believe that if another person helps me before I have a chance to help myself then it proves I’m not capable. And there’s nothing worse than that for a perfectionist is there?
Anyway, that’s a topic for another post. And a therapist.
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You see, caring for a baby’s needs was relatively straightforward. I was lucky, breastfeeding came easy(ish) and yeah, whilst the sleep thing blew up around six months and I cried on the floor of a coffee shop while the green-haired barista desperately stamped my loyalty card in a bid to placate me, I felt needed by my baby and for the most part, I could respond to those needs.
So, when I went to this lovely back-to-work class put on by the incredible people at The Village (if you’re South East London based, look ‘em up), and the nice woman running it asked us to write down what our core morals and beliefs were as we headed back into the workplace, I was stuck. As people around me confidently listed self-preservation boundaries they were going to set like, “leaving work in time to be home for bedtime,” and, “not bringing my job home,” I scrabbled for something I could say that wasn’t, “prove to the people at work that I’m still the same Jess and that I’m still good at my job”. And even lamer: “Make sure people at work still like me.”
Literally all of my thoughts about heading back were about how I could placate others. I thought they’d see me as incompetent and (worse) irrelevant. And I was so focused on this that the thought of setting boundaries to benefit me and my family didn’t occur.
And so I floundered. I did alright at the job I went back to – I'd been at Refinery29 for seven years and despite a promotion and more responsibilities upon my return, it was familiar. I had a track record for who I used to be pre-kid which I could fall back on on days when I wasn’t feeling confident. Looking back now though, there were signs I wasn’t taking my needs seriously. I worked late into the night after my kid went to bed to placate the people I was now managing in the United States rather than setting deadlines that fell in my time zone. I tearfully panicked about what to wear to work each day, baffled by how much fashion had changed in the year I’d spent in leggings and t-shirts. I changed the subject when anyone mentioned my kid, sure that my colleagues (all without children) would quickly become bored of my nap chat. I was desperate to fit back into my old life.
And so, when I upped and left after three months, (I was scared of Vice, Refinery29’s owners, going bankrupt – which they did – R29 though, is doing just fine and we love to see it) and headed to a chaotic new media start-up focused on youth culture (who were on their third editorial director in the short time they’d existed), the cracks that had already started to show in my sense of self quickly became chasms.
I went on a stop smoking course I told the leader I smoked because I felt bad and wanted to feel worse. “I think you might have some other stuff you need to deal with,” he said kindly.
Somewhere, in between fielding pitches on brands and artists I’d never heard of and managing ever-changing budgets, I broke. Rather than enjoying the chaos and getting stuck in (pre-baby me would have loved this job), I became convinced everything across the company that wasn’t working was my fault. I was a failure. I worried my daughter would never see me as a role model with a shit-hot job. I felt weak. I started crying and I didn’t stop, except for at the office (although sometimes when I was there too).
I started smoking again and when I went on a stop smoking course I told the leader I smoked because I felt bad and wanted to feel worse. “I think you might have some other stuff you need to deal with,” he said kindly. I felt shame about myself like I'd never felt it before.
The problem was, of course, chaotic start up aside, that I’d changed. And, rather than trying to get the world of work to accommodate New Me, I was twisting myself in knots to slot back in where I’d left off. Only, the world of work had changed and, more importantly, so had I.
I went on sick leave and cried for six more weeks before eventually quitting my job — my lovely boyfriend promising to find a second job to accommodate our monstrous childcare bills (although thankfully it didn’t come to that). I did a lot of thinking as I cried and begrudgingly, I accepted that it was time to leave Old Me behind. After all, New Me was still Old Me, just with a wealth of new experiences and skills added on. If anything, I was more capable, it’s just that some of these new capabilities weren’t office-based.
In the end, I lucked out and found a fantastic job in a giant, family-focused company launching the UK website for a new generation of cat and dog lovers. I work remotely and my American colleagues (many with kids) schedule meetings during their mornings to accommodate me. I feel challenged but heard, I don’t feel shame about being a mum; I feel proud to be both mum and colleague.
Of course, this doesn’t mean everything is smooth sailing (what is!) but it does mean I have this to say to other people-pleasing mums heading back to work themselves: your first and most important task is figuring out how to make this work for you and your family. There is no way you’ve got time to be as chameleonic as you were pre-baby so, because ditching the people pleasing is not going to happen overnight, figure out the people in your life that it’s most important to please, and focus on them.
Also, consider this: work are lucky to have you back, they’ve had to do without you for months now, the least they could do is try and make space for New You. And, if this doesn’t happen, it’s not your fault. It’s possible that your old job belongs to Old You and there’s something brighter in New You’s future.
Despite this being the end of maternity leave for you, this is not an ending at all. It’s the soft launch of a more nuanced, more accomplished and stronger person.
That’s you, by the way — and you’ve got this.
Gosh it's hard isn't it. No-one warns you before kids that you'll come out the other side a completely new woman, so you really do expect to just be exactly the same (and then feel bewildered and self conscious when you're not.) I am a completely new person since I had children (but also not?) and it took a bit of getting used to. Glad to hear you got there in the end, your new job sounds fab.
Harrrd relate!! I’m 7 months back to work and am still working it all out but definitely no longer feel like I have to contort myself into a non existent version of pre-parent me. Thanks for sharing and v happy to hear you’re enjoying your new job :)