Yesterday evening I had the pleasure of moderating a career education event where students had the opportunity to 'meet' and hear from professionals from across Canada. I was placed with two women who spoke about their incredibly unique and dare I say, badass, career journeys with the Canadian government. I loved learning about each of them, their similarities and differences, as well as how 'happy accidents' led them to very fulfilling careers. As a person who strongly believes in the connectedness of the universe, it was really incredible to be present for their stories.
At the end of the evening, we spoke rather candidly about working from home during the pandemic. One of the women, in her 30s without children, said she was really impressed by the way parents like myself and the other speaker have managed to find ways to adapt to working from home, particularly in the evenings when she knew kids were close by and needing attention. She asked how we stayed focused, and re-iterated that she really felt we should be commended for all we've done to persevere this year.
I've been thinking about her comments all night.
Here I had spent the greater part of two hours admiring her amazing story of struggle, triumph and work 'in the shadows' as a badass security intelligence officer, yet she was genuinely congratulating us for the last 9 months of pandemic work-from-home life?
Wow.
I didn't feel worthy.
The truth is, compliments make me uncomfortable. My dear, wonderful husband of 14 years still makes me squirm when he tells me I am beautiful. My kids declare me 'the best mom in the world' and I immediately start into... well not really, because...
I struggle to feel worthy.
Then I remembered something I read, by one of my favourite writers:
