Thoughts While Running #001

on invisibility, motherhood, and a new chapter.

Alt subtitle for this post : how I got here.

a classic cartoon from the New Yorker that adequately sums up the post partum experience

A couple of months ago I suddenly found myself with a lot of free time on my hands. The end of a fairly lengthy career in the corporate design world suddenly behind me, with a wide open and somewhat uncertain future suddenly ahead of me.

I anticipated it happening but it still came as a bit of a shock. A feeling of disposability, a salary on a piece of paper, crossed off and added to a running total of a ‘cost savings plan’ created to ‘right size the business’ and appease investors (I cannot confirm, but I imagine it has done none of this). Getting laid off was the outcome I wanted, given the alternative : more work with less people and same pay. (I acknowledge the vast amount of personal privilege it takes to be able to hope for this outcome.)

After navigating a pandemic, pregnancy and my postpartum return, I didn’t have it in me to give more than the amount I was currently giving in my carefully boundaried life. So many demands pulling me in every direction…many therapy sessions began with ‘I am always the last on the list.’ This feeling of being a sponge…absorbing the needs of everyone around me until I am then wrung out and squeezed so hard there is nothing left to extract.

2020, for me, in emojis.

I could feel myself fading into the realm of invisibility at work during the pandemic. Maybe it was the new zoom culture - not being assertive enough to talk over someone to deliver an opinion I wasn’t actually sure anyone wanted to hear. Maybe it was the impact of larger societal issues making my job feel insignificant and meaningless that fueled a general feeling of apathy, seeing myself fading into nothingness but not caring because what is the point of selling more stuff in a world plagued by global warming and racial inequality? (two issues amplified by the impacts of the apparel industry)

Whatever the catalyst, pregnancy solidified it. A sudden expiration date limiting the amount of new work I could take on before inevitably relinquishing all responsibilities outside the realm of caretaking a fetus…who would eventually become a baby with his own vague and extensive list of needs. This other side of my identity - the smart, creative ‘cool job’ persona suddenly became irrelevant. Hung up in a closet to be tried on at a later date to see if it still fit. The singular identity I now wore : mom.

me at 36 weeks. my bump could have its own zip code and my feet needed an AirTag to locate…but I felt Cute.

I can’t say there’s a lot I loved about being pregnant, but man did I love that third trimester. My bump had popped so much there was no mistaking that I was, in fact, Pregnant. People noticed me because as a walking beach ball how could they not? Proportions became easier to play around with - oversized muumuus? why not? mini dress? of course! Look at me! I’m Pregnant! Doctors visits were centered around my wellbeing alongside the growing body inside of me. Parents called to check up on me, friends asked how I was feeling.

Nothing can feel as invisible as being a mom. It was a shock when the baby arrived - the shift in care, priorities and well being. Feeling so tired and in need of space to allow my body to heal yet being thrust into a job that didn’t allow for any of this. I became invisible even to myself…as I rushed to accept and adapt to this new identity of motherhood, my old self a casualty of this new job that I had no prior work experience to qualify me for. No longer were the texts or calls asking how I was doing (with an exception of a few close friends who, having gone through the experience themselves were well aware of these feelings of isolation, invisibility and the rollercoaster ride of emotions that comes along with all the mess). Bless the doctor who asked me how I was doing 4 days postpartum at a weight check for our son. (Thank you for your grace and allowing me to feel seen as I immediately burst into tears from your focused attention.)

The hand hold…aka ‘The Greatest Feeling in the World’

Now that my son is older - a walking, talking and heavily opinionated toddler - there’s a new duality…feeling invisible while simultaneously feeling like the most important person in the world. When his eyes focus in on me and he runs in for a full body hug - no one else exists in his orbit. (Or when he holds my hand? My god I feel like I’ve won the lottery!) But to society it feels like I have been demoted. My identity shrunken down to one that is simply ‘a mom’.

As a society we stop caring about mothers once the baby has been born. Anti-abortion bills focus entirely on protecting ‘unborn life’ while very little assistance exists to support mothers and their (born) children. This includes postpartum care (concerning both physical and mental health), affordable child care, maternity leave policies that support healthy family bonding…the list goes on; a topic deserving of a post all to itself and one we all navigate.

I’ve been thinking of this feeling of invisibility a lot lately as a mom. Partially because my identity associated with work has momentarily gone missing(?) is currently undergoing a remodel(?) but mostly because with this as my primary identity I am acutely aware of how I am perceived. My son attends daycare part time in an effort to save a little cash but mostly to claw back some of the time I never got when he was an infant. I love this one on one time I get to spend with him…these ‘momma and dougie adventure days’ we get to have.

my son...his middle name is Wylder which is perfect for a running newsletter and also indicative of his personality.

We’re almost 2 months into our new routine - I’ll take him for a stroller run in the morning, someplace in the city where the sidewalks are wider and the cars are fewer. It never ceases to amaze me how invisible I am while running and pushing a 25 lb toddler in a stroller. No matter how often I announce my presence (‘on your left! excuse me!’) I am often brought to a stop due to someone consumed by their phone or whatever is playing in their earbuds. No acknowledgement (aside from the sweet woman who commented on my speed one day as I was pushing my son through an unforgivingly strong headwind…whoever you are thank you for that), no ‘oh I’m sorry’. More often than not it’s a side glance, sometimes one of surprise, most times one of annoyance. A look of ‘where did you come from?’ or a ‘you dare try to run with a stroller here?’

My work now is shifting the paradigm…reconfiguring and reframing the thought patterns. To Demand Visibility. To know my worth and to truly believe the world will be made better by the sound of my voice. It’s not a straight path but one filled with endless switchbacks, no map and most days it feels straight uphill (or a false flat at best) but I’m working on it. Starting here, through writing and hopefully conversation and community. And through peeling back the layers of influence society has had on me as a female - being praised for being ‘quiet’ as a child, shrinking away from disagreements for fear of being wrong (what is ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ other than mere opinions accepted as societal norms really) and endless examples of mansplanning from men and womensplanning(?) from women who think they know better than I do.

As a mom I hope to show my son listening is important. To teach him to listen as much as he speaks, to be fearless in his navigation of the world and to always first and foremost trust his own compass.

Thanks for listening,

*k