On the Allure of External Validation

Last month, I received a phone call from a boss I haven’t worked for in six years.

Although the call threw me for a loop, when I listened to the message, I found that I was quite willing to do the short-term work my former boss needed. I called him back, we made the necessary arrangements, and now I’m working on a very part-time basis for the company.

The first time I returned to my former place of work after five years away (I did some temporary work for them at the end of my second pregnancy), I felt buoyant, almost ecstatic. And that feeling had me questioning all my life choices since my children were born.

My very professional-looking laptop bag has been waiting for this moment.

Had I made the wrong choice in giving up regular employment? Was the Lacey I was while unpacking my laptop and spreading out my checklists somehow more “me” than the Lacey who had been soothing tantrums, cleaning up potty accidents, and taking endless walks down our block beside a toddler on a scooter, or pulling a wagon, or pushing a bubble mower?

Perhaps it’s worth saying that I did not leave my last steady job because I disliked it. I enjoyed most aspects of it, and the company and my coworkers treated me well. But staying home with my kids while they were young had always been my preference. Despite this, I thought long and hard about whether I could make keeping the job work. Ultimately, I resigned because, like many jobs, it didn’t allow the flexibility I would need for my mental wellbeing while prioritizing caregiving. I had the sense that I would be constantly beating myself up over not being the kind of parent I wanted to be or the kind of worker I wanted to be. I know many other parents who thrive with this level of intensity and juggling, and I believe parents who have achieved satisfaction in their choices are what’s best for kids, whether those parents are working full-time or not. My personality type is not right for both caregiving and full-time employment, and I’m fortunate that our family had the flexibility to make some intentional choices around that.

So, what desire had I been neglecting that this return to regular paid work brought to light?

It didn’t take long for me to find the answer — external validation.

For the last seven years, I’ve been investing intense levels of emotional, mental, and physical resources in something that I just have to hope against hope will be worth it. I won’t really know whether I’ve succeeded at this parenting thing until my children are adults who can cope with the world on their own. I’m playing the long game, and thirty years or so is a very long game indeed. In the meantime, our culture will barely drop a crumb of validation toward those who choose to prioritize caregiving; for much of the last seven years, I have felt either invisible or hyper-aware of being silently evaluated as a parent each time I’m mothering in public; I have experienced stimulating conversations ground to a halt when I tell someone that I am home with my children full-time; it has made me feel less interesting, less valuable, just, less.

Since my youngest started part-time preschool last year, I have carved out time to return to my writing — my first love, and my strongest identity before I became a mother. This has helped me feel more like myself again, more complete. My husband is amazingly supportive and understands that writing is something of a calling for me, and he considers the time I take for it to be an investment in both my dreams and my mental health. I’ve committed to submitting more of my work this year, hoping to supplement our income with work that is meaningful and sustainable and flexible. But I have yet to receive the external validation that a good-size check and publication in a preferred market would bring me.

So these past six years have been filled to the brim with work that is meaningful and personally rewarding. But when it comes to any sort of consistent validation beyond my husband’s deep appreciation (and thank God for that), I’ve been in a six-year drought.

The work my boss asked me to do was straightforward. The goals were clear and quantifiable. He knew I could do it. I knew I could do it. And at the end of it there would be a check, our culture’s ultimate form of validation.

It is one more piece to juggle as I balance my family responsibilities and my creative drive, and summer is barrelling toward me full-speed; today is my last day of having both kids in school. My own projects will take a backseat as they usually do in the summer, except this summer I will use as much of the childcare as I can cobble together to meet my (new) modest paid work obligations. But at a time when even people with stable jobs are worried, this feels like a potential lifeline.

In a perfect world, feeling content with my contributions without external validation would be enough. In an even more perfect world, the work of caring for a family and home would be valued as the intense, skilled labor that it is, not dismissed as something women (or men!) do when they don’t want or can’t get a “real job.” And in the most perfect world, families with children would receive some sort of financial assistance for this work, which parents who want to work outside the home could apply to the cost of their preferred childcare and parents who care for their own children full-time could use to offset the financial risk of that choice.

But until we realize that perfect world — one that feels more out of reach than ever in our current political climate — yeah, I’ll accept a little outside validation. And try to remember that the work that earns money still isn’t the most important work that I do.