Today might just be the biggest day of my life.
As far as big days go, I’ve had a few:
1. The day I was born.
2. The day I got my driver’s license.
3. The day I graduated college.
4. The day I got married
5. The days I gave birth.
6. The day I started my blog.
And then there’s today…
7. The day I quit my job. Like whoa.
So the whole experience has been totally surreal.
You know how you daydream about something for so long? You hope and you pray and you cry and you whine? You decide, change your mind, decide again and then chicken out? Yeah, that’s how I’ve felt about becoming a stay-at-home mom since forever.
This is weird for me.
I’ve worked continuously since I was 16 years old. I’ve never been unemployed. I’ve never taken a month to backpack through Europe. Damn.
I’ve made huge sacrifices as a working mother for the sake of my family’s security. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not bitter about the sacrifices – if anything I’m thankful I made them.
But even after all that, there comes a time when the still, quiet voice inside your soul starts screaming. It screams so loud, you can’t hear anything else. It affects your relationships, the quality of your work and ultimately, your happiness.
I tried my best to ignore the voice.
After a few dozen or so breakdowns, roughly 15 panic attacks, multiple visits to my doctor for unexplainable medical mysteries and at least a thousand hours of conversation with my very supportive husband; I quit.
I’m scared shitless (OMG, never swore on le blog before). I’m excited. I’m relieved. I’m lighter.
Lighter, what a strange and wonderful feeling.
The day I woke up in 2010 and started this blog was the day I decided to honor my calling.
The day I decided to quit my job was the day I decided to honor my family.
To all the work-outside-home-mamas: God bless you. I know the stress that comes from your child waking up with a fever on a Tuesday. How you can never get into see the dentist because he doesn’t work weekends. How you spend all Sunday cooking meals so you have dinners for the week. How awful your commute is. How stressed you feel skipping out of a meeting early just to barely make it to daycare before they close. How your boss is pissed that you don’t work late because you have children who never see you, all the while his wife is home with his kids. I’ve been there so long I wish I could just wrap my arms around all y’all and hug you tight. I understand just how big the sacrifice of working outside the home really is.
Today I begin my new life as a mom, a wife and a writer.
And guess what? The screaming in my head has gone silent. Finally.