We need to lean in differently now

It's not about being like the men and taking our place at the table, it's about being like the women and allowing ourselves to be held. The men are already doing it.

Here’s me, leaning into an amrchair

When Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In was published, I was in my 20s, child-free and working in a corporate environment.

It was perfect for me.

I took my seat at the table, quite literally.

And embarrassingly.

As I was a lowly copywriter and not on the management team, so I had to swiftly slide out of that seat because my boss wanted to sit in it.

On Sandberg’s advice, I asked for several increases on my day rate so that by the time I left, in 2014, I was on £250/day, having started at £120.

When I became pregnant, I decided - à la Sandberg - that I’d return to work in the office after three months.

My male line manager kindly suggested I might like to have the baby and see how I felt before committing.

Really, he shouldn’t have said that because we should be living in a time when the father (or other parent) of the baby can also contribute to parenting.

So that the mother can return to work, if she wants and needs.

If, for instance, she is the higher earner which, at that time, I was.

But it was HR who cancelled my contract in the end, not that line manager.

When those twats said my contract would be terminated, I leaned in again and negotiated a pay rise that enabled me to save £10,000.

This supplemented the £500/month maternity allowance I’d receive from the Government and gave me time and space to work out my next career steps.

And it all worked out wonderfully, because that job was like Ground Hog Day and if I had gone back after my baby, and was still there now, a decade on, I’d be depressed.

Instead, I get to write books, essays and articles, from home, try new things, work with different editors and generally, do work that feels more fulfilling.

But.

We need to return to this idea of ‘leaning in’ and think about it differently, now.

Instead of being like the men, in business, which is what Sandberg suggested in that seminal book, we need to be like women.

That is, we need to come at it with a feminine energy, not a masculine one.

And to lean into the support around us rather than only leaning in to ask for pay rises, promotions and more recognition.

There’s recently been a lot of talk about the ludicrous cost of childcare in the UK, which renders some mothers’ income (seemingly) redundant.

Once childcare costs are covered, they are not earning. They are breaking even. Sometimes, they are paying to work.

In a rather misguided BBC Radio 4 interview, the interviewee asked one woman if she’d considered ‘just not working’ and looking after her twins instead.

The woman said that she’d worked hard to get to where she was in her (specialist) career and didn’t want to give it up now, because it felt like a waste.

Also, she said she likes her work. As do I, and many other women.

I wonder how many men are being asked if they’ve considered giving up their careers to look after their children rather than forking out on nurseries?

I wonder how many men have even considered doing this?

As almost a third of men take no paternity leave after the birth of their baby, I’m guessing … not many?

My housewife fantasy

No, not a sexual fantasy. But a fantasy about actually being a housewife.

I imagine cooking lovely proper meals, rather than serving beans on toast and dippy eggs for tea.

Joining the PSA without panicking that I don’t have time to both parent and work and wondering how I’m going to also help arrange a silent disco.

Spending any spare time I have during the school day going to Pilates classes and fixing my fucked up pelvic floor.

Maybe even doing things like crafts with my kids, after school, rather than letting my thoughts wander off, as I think about the book I’m writing.

I rose-tint it, because I imagine there is some simplicity in doing one or the other: kids or paid work.

But I know it’s never that simple. There is guilt, whichever option you choose (if you’re a woman).

Anyway, I like my work. I like earning. I want to earn. I want to write. I’m not going to give it all up to be a full-time wife and mum.

Not least because right now, my husband doesn’t even live with me.

But what I am going to do is lean into the people around me more, so that I can work and mother without burning out.

Leaning in to your community

When I first moved in with my parents, in January, I felt I had to prove that I wasn’t going to be a ‘nuisance’ or a ‘burden’.

I did everything for my children and myself, and tried to also do as much as I could for my parents, to make life easier for them rather than harder.

It wasn’t until two months in that I asked if they’d mind putting the kids to bed so that I could go out with my sister for the evening.

They’d told me they could help whenever I needed but I hadn’t properly heard that.

I don’t like asking for help, so I didn’t (beyond taking over some spare bedrooms in their house.)

But now, I’m seeing they really don’t mind if I want to nip out to do a shop after school and leave the kids home with them.

They like helping.

Also, this is temporary. And any help they give is, too.

They have their own lives but if I really need help, and they’re free, they’re game.

I’m leaning into this more. Because right now, extra help might mean the difference between staying relatively balanced or burning out.

Look at the builders

One morning, I was sat in our kitchen in Frome and my husband, Rich, was getting to work in the garden, constructing a concrete platform.

The cement was being delivered by van but it couldn’t fit down the tiny lane behind our house, so Rich had to start carrying it to the garden using a wheelbarrow.

Within 10 minutes, three local men (all builders) had come round with their own wheelbarrows to help.

It was the loveliest thing to watch: these men helping each other out, activating the feminine energy of community and collaboration.

They all went on to do this many more times over the two years we were there, depending on who needed things to be lifted/offloaded etc.

My brother is also a builder and runs a construction/renovation company in London, near where I’m now living.

They’re working on a house near us and I see the camaraderie amongst them. Calling each other for a hand, passing things over, keeping each other safe.

In one of the most seemingly masculine work environments - because it’s almost always 100% male builders on site - there is a feminine side to it.

Also, men are able to work hard in this way, because there’s so often a woman at home doing the kids, cooking, cleaning etc.

And that is feminine too.

Men lean into one another in the workplace and women at home, and we need to lean into the people around us too.

Ask for help, accept help, recognise that in the same way my brother and his men can’t lift a scaffolding pole alone, nor can a woman work and mother alone.

We all need to be surrounded and supported.

Chat

I’m going to be writing another piece on ‘niche’ - here’s the first one - because I’ve been having some new thoughts on it, circling back to my ‘working mother’ niche.

But in the meantime, I wanted to tell you that I’m starting chats about the kind of things I’ve written about here: being a woman, mother and worker.

These are threads, on Substack, where I ask a question and all paid subscribers can join the conversation. It feels really good to be having these conversations.

Like this one, where I asked: Is working (for money), when you also have young kids, more fulfilling or stressful?

So join the chats, if you’re interested in discussing these challenges and sharing tips and ideas.

Also, while some people are shunning the ‘Notes’ feature on Substack, because it’s too social-media-y, I’m going in.

Here are my Notes.

It’s like Instagram but without the need for an image.

And Twitter, but longer-form.

But shorter-form than these articles.

I share little passages about things that are on my mind, covering: motherhood, work, wellbeing, Substack, writing, mindset…

And pear crumble.

I’m leaning into pear crumble in a big way this week.

Tell me:

• Who are you leaning on?

• What help do you need?

• How much are you getting?

• How can you get more?

• Who can you turn to?

• What will happen, if you feel more supported?

• How important is that to you?

Annie x