Millennial Feminist
I woke up this morning and it felt a little harder to be a mom. We all have days like this, but today felt like a different kind of hard. And I tell myself that I can do hard things, remind myself that I do them every day, and try to snap myself out of it. But today, it felt like I could hardly do hard things and almost felt like I didn’t even want to do them anymore. I hop onto the Peloton for a mental health run to distract myself from myself. After sweating it out for 3 miles, I slow down and the instructor plays “Rise Up” by Andra Day for our cool down, and I start to sob. Mixing tears with sweat, endorphins with the blues, and a sense of heaviness on my racing heart. This was when I realized that rather than resisting this wave of unfamiliar emotions, I had to give myself a chance to feel them. A few hours later, I started blogging to help me understand them.
Perhaps it was the timing of it all. In the span of less than two weeks, I was saving lives in a cardiac intensive care unit missing bedtime more nights than not then pivoted to pitch a project that is close to my heart to a leadership team of all men then shifted to take my two oldest children to the election polls with my husband then attended an event as the Vice President of Medical Affairs to present the Physician of the Year Award to a colleague then transitioned into a day where I was taking my newborn to her wellness check, cooking dinner, and doing homework. In the midst of it, the country changed overnight. The last two weeks were filled with intense and heartfelt moments, and before I had a second to reflect, I was on to the next important task. I’m a wildly passionate human so I live for the fire that lights up my soul.
But like I said, today felt different. It was as if everything that I have been doing for my family was suddenly not enough. The rules don’t apply anymore. The expectations transformed. The requirements have been rewritten. I also want to make clear that, as a mother and as a woman, I have never felt as if I was not enough.
When I started writing this post in October, the tone and message was nothing like what you have read so far. I had recently heard the term Millennial Feminist on a podcast for the first time, and according to my age and my status, I was considered a Millennial Feminist. The guest described mothers born during this generation as mothers who have it all. They are the moms that are redefining feminism by showing the world that they can have the career and the family. Hm, that is me. I completely agreed. Yet the more I overanalyzed it on my long commute, I actually wasn’t sure. Is that me? Do I have it all? Or do I do it all?
And merely a month ago, I believed that I already had it all whether or not I decide to do it all. So perhaps, it was time to start considering not doing it all in order to appreciate all that I have. Give up my role in leadership, space out my book events, let go of meaningful work-related passion projects so I could cook more, order in less, and consistently get home for bedtime. Merely a month ago, this idea felt ok to me, which is a truly testament to my personal evolution because I find so much of my identity in the things I do and the dreams I pursue. Now just a few weeks later, everything has changed because that thought process is no longer relevant. I can’t change the narrative passively. I can’t sit back and expect to set an example. What I show my mixed kids as a mother and what I show the world as an Asian-American woman are action-only tasks. It matters to me and it’s important for our future. The truth is I don’t fully understand why I feel the urge to change how we see the world. Some have referred it to a burden and others have admired it as an inspiration. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s millennial feminism. Or maybe it’s none of that. Whatever we may think about it, there is one thing that is for certain. It is me. And even though our world changed this week. The core of who I am is unwavering. I can’t be labeled or categorized. I am the mother that I need to be. This can depend on what stage of growth my five children are in, and what the environment and the social climate around them looks like. I pivot to be the best mom I can be for them. I do it all. I have it all. Because I give my all.
I will allow myself the grace to feel hurt and disappointed, vulnerable and exhausted. And today, I may even allow myself to feel defeated. But my family can rest assured that I’ll rise up, and I’ll do it a thousand times again.
