Growing up, particularly in my high school days, my mom would make off-handed comments about how she saw me in the business world. This always seemed to come from left field because my expectation, along with everyone else’s at the time, was that I would be a music major and eventually teach (because, let’s face it, that’s the only sure gig).
I had violin students while I was in high school and quickly discovered I hated teaching something that came naturally to me. I mean, truly hated it. I kept that to myself because it was against “the plan”. Still, every once in a while, that comment of going into business would flit through the air and disappear. When I was finally honest with myself and my family, I declared a communications major. I loved writing and interacting with people. It was a great fit.
I used to call my mom nearly every weekday on my way home from work, or before my office job, when I was on the road traveling on a sales trip spending long hours driving or alone in a hotel room. We probably talked more when I was 22-32 than we did all of the previous years combined.
I loved the work of my first job out of school but learned some good lessons about what work environment I wanted. Somehow, I found myself on a plane at the age of 23 to interview for a position with a company based in St. Louis. I did that for nearly five years when I took another chance at a position I had no experience in but knew in my gut I’d be good at. Over a decade later, I’ve worked my way through several positions. Every time I’m unsure, I hear her voice saying “I could really see you in business”.
I miss those phone calls. They grounded me in reality. While most of them were unremarkable, there is one that sits with me. I was pregnant with my son. I had suspected there might be something going on with her for some time, but had no “proof”. I mean, how do you prove it anyway? We were talking about the baby and the things we might need since we’d already had one child there wasn’t as much to get this time.
I said he could use some burp cloths and blankets because the ones we had used were pretty gnarly. My mom had gotten some that I loved- they were soft and didn’t irritate the baby’s skin. I asked her to pick up some more if she could find them. She had no idea what I was talking about. No matter how I described them, it didn’t click.
The thing that struck me about the conversation wasn’t that she didn’t know. It was the tone of her voice. At first confused. Then irritated. Then a tone that I could only pinpoint as somewhere between fear and panic. She knew she should know, but didn’t. I knew she should know- she was so excited about them when she got them for my daughter. It was all she talked about for a while.
I dropped it and just said, “Any burp cloths you find will be perfect”. The thing is, the next day, we had the same conversation. And that, my friends, was the exact moment everything in my world changed.
If you've had a similar experience, I invite you to look around our site for resources and support. You do not have to do this alone.
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