Maine Creative Momma

I’ve always been a hard worker, I think.

I was raised by a hard working single mom. I believe before my dad’s weakness took over his life he was a hard worker too. I suppose it’s just in my DNA.

No one is harder worker than my husband. I’ve seen that man work through illness, physical pain, devastating losses, and days that would cripple Sampson.

I watch other people who hustle for everything they have and make it. Make it big. And it’s inspiring. Truly.

I’ve tried for 13 years to be the best. Be number one in my field, my career, my company. I have had my eyes fixed on the c-suite as long as I can remember. The glass ceiling didn’t scare me at all. I have a metal helmet and I’m here to bust through.

I’m smart, cunning, capable and stand out above my peers. I always have.

Then, suddenly, something changed. The room I wanted to get to – thats seemed so bright, so shiny, so spectacular – got dark.

Cloudy.

Muddy.

Ugly.

I could see the people ahead of me, already there, giving their whole lives for the seat. Events were missed, birthday parties delayed, school plays unseen, daycare pick up running late. Family second, work first.

Honestly, it made me a little sick the first time I really heard it in action. And heard it as an expectation of me – a middle manager with enough ambition to blow the roof off a building.

“Other people can love your kids just as much as you do. They will be fine at home”.

The comment should have made me more sick, but it didn’t.

It took more.

Five rounds of layoffs, projects piled on my desk higher than most Boston skyscrapers & hours upon hours spent working. At my desk, on my phone….it didn’t matter.

I was almost always working.

Then boom – my second pregnancy hit like a ton of bricks.

At 20 weeks we got devastating news, but continued the pregnancy.

At 26 weeks I came down with pneumonia (diagnosed at the ER after driving 6 hours round trip to work).

At 36 weeks my body was so depleted they gave me an iron infusion.

And at 39 weeks, when I was induced, my blood pressure was so high I was labeled hypertensive.

Through all of it, I kept going. I kept showing up. Without letting on anything I was going through. My work never suffered; no one except those I told knew what was happening to me.

Call it strength, resilience, perseverance….sure.

But what it really was is stupid.

My second little boy came out…..and he was healthy. Perfect. NICU looked at him for less than 5 minutes and left. My delivering OB actually asked why they were there. He was (and is) a miracle.

That day changed my life.

The following 12 weeks of being with him changed me even more. By the time I went back to work (2 days before Christmas), I was ready to have things be different.

But they weren’t. My boss was still the same. The company was still the same. Leadership hadn’t changed. Expectations were still that work was the priority everything else pales in comparison.

Except one thing had changed – me.

I realized in that moment that I was just done pushing through the hard days and ignoring my desire for a slower, quieter life.

I needed a way to find more peace, joy, fulfillment, happiness while also having a full time job.

From that realization, I started getting really clear on my priorities:

My kids

My husband

Being in my kitchen

My relationship with God

Being a wife & mom first

Taking genuine care of those around me

From that realization, a path took form. I left the job that was killing me and took one where I could set fresh boundaries.

I forced myself to log off at 4:30 or 5 and get myself home, without checking email or being pressured to stay later.

I drew lines in the sand about what would be important to me and didn’t let the lure of a higher paycheck pull me in.

And most importantly, I wrote a lot. I journaled a lot. I got clear on what I wanted, who I am, and what I want my life to look and feel like.

As I worked through all of this, I started writing everything down. A lot of it became journaling. A lot of it became questions I needed to ask myself about what I actually wanted my life to feel like.

Eventually, those pages became two resources: The Soft Return, a burnout recovery journal, and The Gentle Homecoming, my guide to reclaiming peace, purpose, and soft power after the corporate climb.

I created them first because I needed them myself. And if you’re somewhere in this same messy middle, they’re there for you too.

There are still days that I slide back into the version of me who worked 12+ hours a day.

I sometimes feel like I am missing out when a coworker gets invited to big meetings with executives.

But at the end of the day, my ambition has changed to be something warmer, softer, and more focused on something that will matter beyond quarter end or the busy season or an inbox that just never seems to shut off.

And that is what I truly want.

If anything here helps you, or resonates, I hope that you are able to take your own first steps to finding a peaceful life. To bring your own happiness home ❤️