Transitions…
(a personal reflection — vulnerable and real)
For 21 years I lived inside the rhythm of corporate life. My calendar was my map: meetings, deadlines, excel, another late night. I loved parts of it, the independence, the paycheck, the structure; but for most of those years my heart kept whispering something else. I daydreamed about projects I wanted to start, about small moments I never had time to taste, a slow coffee in the morning, an afternoon to write, the chance to be fully present for my babies, my family or friends.
Now I’m a stay-at-home mom. I’m learning what it means to be a 24/7 parent in a way I wasn’t before. I already was a mom on the weekends and in the hours between office life, but this is different: there’s no commute to create space, no quiet desk hours carved out for work. Instead, my days are governed by little bodies, nap windows, and the glorious unpredictability of real life. I love it. I’m terrified of it. I am learning to hold both feelings at the same time.
I’m doing this with zero shame and a lot of gratitude, but also with the very real fear of financial uncertainty. My husband has been a blessing: his support gave me the chance to be at home, to spend time with our children and slowly explore things I’ve always wanted to do, skincare and haircare care, building my consulting work, and creating this blog. We have big dreams as a couple, but each step toward them feels both exciting and risky. We are taking things one step at a time and each step is scary.
There are lots of practical transitions happening for me all at once:
(here are some of those)
from being single-parent-in-charge of every decision to learning how to trust a partner with the financial load and with parenting choices;
from one child to two, and all the doubling of love and logistics that brings;
from commuting and structured office hours to the unpredictable rhythm of home life;
from the clarity of a paycheck to the DIY of side hustles and network marketing (yes, I’m trying new things to generate income while staying present with my family).
On top of the daily retraining of routines, I’m discovering how friendships shift, it’s hard to see who stays when my whole life is transitioning. Some friendships deepen; others are quietly fading. I’m learning to protect the relationships that are mutual and nourishing, and to let go, gently, of those that aren’t. That’s painful and also strangely liberating.
The fear that follows a pause (and what the data shows)
Stepping away from paid work to raise children or care for family is common, and it has measurable consequences.
During the pandemic, many mothers left the labor force: nearly 750,000 more moms were out of the workforce in the early crisis years, a shift that has had long-term effects on earnings and career trajectories. Census.gov
Today, over 24 million mothers of children under 18 participate in the U.S. labor force — but millions still face the impossible math of childcare costs, work demands, and family life when deciding whether to continue paid employment. USAFacts
Historically, a large share of women report leaving work because of home and family care responsibilities; these choices (often forced by childcare costs or lack of support) continue to push women out of the labor market at higher rates than men. U.S. Chamber of Commerce
Research also documents a real “motherhood penalty”: career interruptions and caregiving pauses are linked to lower wages and slower promotions over time — not because of ability, but because of structural bias and lost seniority. (This dynamic is well documented across academic studies.) PMC+1
The fears we as women feel about re-entering the workforce, being “less than” after pausing, or losing momentum are rooted in real trends. That doesn’t mean we can’t return or rebuild, many women do, but the road back often requires strategy, support, and time.
How I’m trying to do this (a messy, real plan)
I’m doing what I can to balance presence and progress. I keep three small practices that help me feel steady:
Micro-work windows. When the baby naps, I write or post something about the network marketing I joined, for a focused 25–45 minute block. It’s not a 9–5, but it moves things forward.
One paid project at a time. I focus on a single product/offering each time: a skin-care machine or a hair-care product, a short coaching to my team, or a merch idea for She Creates. Little wins compound.
Boundaries & rhythm. I block family time, reading time, and a tiny creative hour for myself. It’s imperfect, but it gives the day shape.
Emotionally: I remind myself daily that this season is not a failure, it’s just a season. I give myself permission and grace to be proud of choosing my children and also to be ambitious, to try, to fail, and to try again.
Who am I now?
Who am I if I’m not the manager, the one who closed the deal, the person who had a job title that fit nicely on a business card? The truth: I am all of those things and also a woman who is rediscovering herself over long mornings with my baby and long days with my kiddo, who is learning to redefine success. I am learning to be kinder with myself, to celebrate tiny wins, and to rebuild confidence in ways that fit my current life.
This isn’t about losing ambition, it’s about remodeling it. I’m not erasing a 21+-year career; I’m layering motherhood, creativity, and entrepreneurship on top of it. I still bring experience, discipline, and leadership into everything I do, it just looks different now.
If you’re reading this and you’re in the middle of a similar shift, please know:
your fear is real and valid;
your choice to prioritize family doesn’t make you less ambitious or less valuable;
returning to paid work is possible, but plan for it intentionally (skills refresh, networking, small paid gigs that build momentum);
protect relationships that uplift you and let go of the rest.
Transition feels like standing in two doors at once. One opens to what you were and one opens to what you might become. Both are true, and both can be honored. I am learning to be brave in small ways, to show up for my kids, for my marriage, and for myself. I am learning to ask for help, to share the load, and to matter my way back into paid work if that’s the path I choose.
Lets embrace transitions
Love
Mirell 💖