Reading can be hard. If you’ve experienced trauma or loss, you might have a shorter attention span. You may find your attention slip when trying to focus on one thing at a time, or perhaps the concept sitting still and reading in silence is unfathomable. You are normal. If you’re struggling, please give yourself grace and try the audio version of this letter.
2024 wasn’t the year that I started writing again, but it was the year I got pregnant. Yes, I began last year with grand aspirations of getting back to writing about money after a long hiatus away from my personal finance blog. I created this space intending to write regularly and — maybe — even generate some income doing what I love. But then just two weeks and two articles into the new year, two pink lines on a pregnancy test completely shifted what I thought 2024 would be about.
Something had to give
I have this bad habit, where when the going gets tough, instead of just taking a step back and attempting to prioritize what matters, I hunker down, and work as hard as humanly possible to overcome whatever obstacle is in my way.
I fell victim to this habit chronically in my 20s. I wasn’t very self aware then (I mean who is right?) and working until I dropped helped me achieve some big goals. It also led to the burnout that I’m currently trying to heal from.
It wasn’t until my 30s that I gained the tiniest glimpse of insight into this bad habit of mine. The problem is, I’m still horrible at recognizing these situations when I’m in them.
That clarity would usually come months later, when I got some distance from the situation, and I could look back and think — why did I do that?
The winter and spring of 2024 was one of those times. I was running my department at work alone, covering for the departure of my colleague Alyssa and waiting for funding for the new hire.
At the same time, I was experiencing what most would say is a typical pregnancy, but what I would compare to severe illness. I was exhausted and nauseous all of the time, and, even though I was working from home, at the end of the work day I would collapse into bed, exhausted. Eating was a challenge, because I either was so ravenous I couldn’t wait for dinner and ended up snacking all afternoon, or I was so nauseous I would cry from frustration, because I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted to eat.
Now, more than a year later, I can look back on that time and understand that it was ridiculous to expect myself to do the job of two people while pregnant, but at the time, I struggled and pushed myself. But something had to give, and that something was my aspirations of starting to write again.
Coming up for air
Motherhood has drastically changed how I exist in the world. I’m Canadian, so I was able to take time away from my job to care for my son, and for the first time in my adult life, I didn’t center work. I thought the change would be a big adjustment, but caring for an infant was so all-consuming that I barely had time to care for myself, let alone think about the work I’d left behind.
Needless to say, motherhood didn’t leave me with much free time to devote to writing. Almost overnight, my life became a viscous soup, where finding the time and energy to do something as basic as pay my bills was a monumental task.
Now more than a year and a half later, and I feel like I’m finally coming up for air. My son is a year old, and my return to work is on the horizon. I write this from my office in my new home (that’s right, I also bought a house in 2024, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate) and I wonder, maybe 2025 will be the year?
Talk soon,
