I was going to quit covering and judging myself, quit seeking approval and being embarrassed for who I was and what I found important. I was going to stop worrying about what other people might think. I was going to show my body, my brains, and my beliefs my way. I was going to build my dreams and live my sparkle. I was ready, and I couldn’t wait to dive in!
This is how I uncovered myself, found my sparkle, and, for the first time in my life, released judgment about who I was — who I thought I was supposed to be — and stepped fully into my Naked Self-Worth. This is how I came back to life, challenged myself with every opportunity I could find, and ended up going to law school. Nothing was going to stop me now!
My Adulthood: The Power Woman in the Conservatively Cut Navy-Blue Business Suit
Nothing was going to stop me. . .except myself. I wish I could say that I remained so connected to who I was that I was never undone by my inhibitions or self-judgment again, but that was not the case. Which is why FLAUNT! is a practice to be gently but vigilantly embodied throughout our lives. In order to transcend our stories, to become the kind of women we aspire to be instead of the kind of women created by default by the sum total of our masks, we must stay vigilant. We must reveal ourselves fully and allow ourselves to be seen. And most importantly, we must abide by our own internal valuation system.
During my last year of law school, I was accepted in the university’s student-law office, a program where students represent low-income clients under the supervision of licensed attorneys. In one of my cases, I represented a couple who purchased a used car from a dealership but quit making payments when the wife lost her job. Although my advisor and I had gone through the entire case file, the night before the hearing I went back to the law library to do some more research. Just in case.
Poring over case law, I discovered that there were various notice requirements the dealership had to fulfill before repossessing the car, and those notice requirements had not been met.
You probably know how it feels when you have a secret that is so joyful and thrilling that you can barely sleep? That’s how I felt! I had found something that had been missed by everyone. I was ecstatic! I was going to win the very first case I had ever tried!
The next morning, even though I had barely slept, I put on my best (only) conservatively cut navy-blue suit, spent an hour on understated yet elegant hair and makeup, and made sure that I had all the necessary research and files. Beaming, I entered the courtroom with my advisor and presented both opposing counsel and the judge with a memo explaining what I had found.
After a couple of tense minutes, the judge banged his gavel and ruled in favor of my clients, who gave a whoop of joy as I broke into a relieved smile. I had done it! Looking up, I caught the judge’s eye. He pointed straight at me and said, “I want to see you in my chambers now!” And he was not smiling.
Confused, I followed him to his chambers, where, instead of congratulating me, he berated me for unfairly springing my research on opposing counsel, an older, established (male) attorney, and for making him look ill prepared in court. He told me he didn’t like the way I was all smiles with my clients. He explained that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I should wear pants, instead of a skirt. He also suggested I wear my hair up.
Have you ever had an experience that was so shocking that you didn’t even know how to respond? Frozen to my advisor’s side, I stood, incredulous. My smackdown was not the only source of my dismay. I was floored at the way my advisor respectfully kowtowed to the judge to his face, but later, outside his chambers, told me how out of line and flat-out wrong he had been. I drove home, mortified and confused, not registering for several hours that I had won my first case and should be proud of what I had accomplished.
If you have ever worked or played in traditionally more male-dominated arenas, you may have been confronted with the same decision I was: to play by the rules, fit in with the good old boys, and succeed or to be your true self and risk losing out on the career that you rightfully deserve. Because I wanted to succeed, I covered, going deeper and deeper into my female-lawyer persona, cutting off my hair and trying not to smile or connect with support staff the way I wanted. But in the process, I disconnected from myself. From my passion for justice, my body, and my love of dance and movement. I disconnected from my intuition; from my bubbly enthusiasm for, oh, everything; and, most profoundly, from my innate, feminine self.
Instead of being the lawyer I wanted to be, one who compassionately helped clients find solutions and solve problems outside the courtroom, I kept myself firmly in check and became the kind of traditional, detached, see-you-in-court lawyer others thought I should be. Once again I began dancing choreography that was not my own, wearing the costumes that fit the stereotypical version of the role I was playing, and masking who I was inside to avoid being rejected or hurt. And although I was successful, my success was not fulfilling. I had everything I could desire both professionally and personally, but something was missing. And I wasn’t sure what it was or what I should do to find what I was looking for.
Aprons & Pearls, Spit-Up & Sweats
The birth of my second child brought with it the realization that I was being lied to. By both society and myself. Society told me that women could indeed do it all. All I had to do was lean in, be bold about taking on more at work, structure my time with my children clearly, and be proactive about planning date nights and self-care, and the world would be mine! But the truth is, no woman — let me rephrase that, no human — can sustain that level of superwoman intensity, constantly managing, planning, and rushing around, without sacrificing herself and her experience and enjoyment of life. Instead of questioning the message fed to me by society, I’d perceived myself as the failure, and I was done living that lie.
The situation was exacerbated by the fact that I was going on my third year without sleep, and I was suddenly disillusioned with my role as a powerful career woman who could do it all. I wanted more time with my children, and I was unhappy leaving them at daycare. Even though staying home hadn’t been my plan and everyone thought I was crazy for “throwing away” my career and becoming a “lowly” wife and mom, I wanted to do it.
On a wave of conviction and coffee, I entered full-time motherhood, where I believed I would be welcomed with open arms into the mythic sisterhood of stay-at-home moms. I could while away the hours, babies playing happily at my feet, reconnecting with myself and shedding the layers I had accumulated during my time as an attorney. In reality, I stepped squarely onto the bloody fields of the mommy wars, where competition, self-judgment, and guilt threatened to overtake me at every turn.
The working moms were judgmental of the stay-at-home moms; the stay-at-home moms were judgmental of the working moms. Not everyone was willing to talk about the frustration and exhaustion of raising babies and toddlers. In fact, women who spoke freely about their bad parenting moments would sometimes be ostracized or, worse, be condescendingly told by the perfect mothers, “All you have to do is. . .”
Those perfect women — you might know the type — wearing a June Cleaver apron (or Athleta yoga gear) and carrying a tray of organic zucchini muffins, surrounded by their perfect children and bunco-club friends, all the while prattling on about their ah-mazing date night with their adoring hubby, made it seem like once again, I was two steps behind, an impostor in my own life.
What was wrong with me that I sometimes missed the peace of being at work, or my kids could make me want to run from the house screaming? I don’t know if you can relate, but I felt like no matter how hard I tried, I could never be that perfect wife and mom. Which I found unbelievable, because I had been so capable on the work front! How was it possible to fail at being a stay-at-home mom?
This is how I lost myself to motherhood.