How it is

I am now old enough that people look to me to be an example.  I'm somebody's mommy.  I'm somebody's mentor.  I'm somebody's role model--unbelievably.  All of those things are pretty weird.  Somewhere along the way I seem to have grown up and nobody notified me I would have to model good behavior at all times.

I am an equity partner at a well-respected law firm.  I have kids.  I'm expected to have answers about how all of those things happened, and at the same time.  The trouble is, when people are looking for answers as to how to balance things or keep thriving in the ways they hope to, the answers I've got don't sound terribly impressive.  The truth is, of course, it's hard.  But then, I kind of think every working mom has it hard.  For that matter, I think moms who stay at home have it hard, but that's a post for another day where I divulge my secret shame that I don't think I could stay home and be a good mom.  But I digress.

For young(er) women at law firms, the simple reality is that you are likely to be having children at the most difficult point in your career as an associate--which is to say the few years before you make partner.  So just when you've started feeling like you know what you are doing (at least a couple of days a week), everything tilts and all of a sudden you are trying to work late nights when you have never been sleepier in your life.  You get big and fat and have a million truly grotesque pregnancy symptoms/realities, and you're simultaneously trying to convince everyone around you that you WILL be here to do that work, and you WON'T be distracted or unable to perform exactly as you always have before, meanwhile you are supposed to be choosing names and onesies the kid will never wear and finding daycares or nannies or preschools (ALREADY?) and your feet don't even fit in your shoes anymore.  

Then the baby comes.  And you become convinced you cannot go back to work at all.  Or maybe you need to reduce your hours (and your salary, and the pace at which you might ever make partner).  Or you don't have that choice and you want to cry.  And PS, you do want to cry, like a LOT, which seems weird and ridiculous and yet very very real.  You start to worry if you are losing your mind.  You feel like you haven't talked to an adult in weeks.  You worry your work won't be there when you get back, and then of course that will lead to the inevitable phase-out of your career at the firm.  Also, you haven't slept in what feels like years, and this tiny person you love more than life also WON'T STOP CRYING.  You know women have been doing this for ages, but obviously you are not competent, because you cannot even shower, much less contemplate getting out the door to go anywhere in less than 90 minutes.

But, it's also amazing.

And you do go back to work, and it's harder than it was before, because now you have so many more responsibilities and worries at home.  You still aren't sleeping, and you have to continue to compete with your peers for work and accolades.  You're probably a perfectionist, so you don't feel good enough.  You notice microaggressions that people don't even know they are committing, and you start to notice the ways policies seem to disproportionately impact women.  You miss out on cool assignments because you can't travel--or people think you don't want to.  And you probably don't, but you want to be asked.  But after about six months, things start to seem more normal.  You find your footing, all is well...and then you get pregnant again.

How I made it, honestly, is that I just kept going.  I learned to accept that I couldn't be perfect all the time, either at home or at work.  But I knew I could be good enough.  I put one foot in front of the other and reminded myself it would get better.  Just one more case.  One more year.  One more whatever.  And I got scrappier about developing a niche that was all my own.

But it's hard for the lady lawyers.  Many of them don't have very many role models ahead of them who "had it all."  They have a lot of guilt for the things they miss at home.  They have guilt for enjoying work.  It's hard to know how and when to say no when things get to be too much.  It's hard to know who you can go to when you need to scream, cry or commiserate.  There are real differences for women in law firms, and everything seems like an uphill climb.

But my advice to those who ask me is that simple: just keep going.  Learn who you can go to to pump you up when you feel discouraged or frustrated.  Know everything will look better in a few months, and don't make big decisions when you still aren't sleeping more than a couple of hours a night.  Find yourself some advocates, and let them advocate.  Give yourself some grace, and just keep going.

And whatever happens--even if it doesn't look like you hoped, or like you expected--it will be okay.  And once it's happened to you, one day you will wake up and realize that YOU are somebody's mommy.  And somebody's role model.  And even when you don't feel good enough, there's someone who thinks you are the best thing in the world.

But keep going!  And don't let the bastards get you down.