Several months ago, my boss sent me an email with the headline 'Congratulations.'
I was in a meeting, trying not to multi-task, but the subject line teased me, begging me to open the message.
So I did.
The contents were surprising. I had been selected to attend a leadership program for women, made up of multiple modules in the fall. The intent of the course was to prepare me for a senior executive role in the future. The president of the U.S. business was copied. Huh.
I forwarded it to Peter, with the headline, 'Well this is interesting ...'
'Not interesting, amazing," he responded.
I sent it to my parents as well, and they echoed Peter.
I honestly wasn't too excited. More worried that the time commitment would jeopardize the precarious schedule and routine that protects my sanity. But in the next couple months, I learned more about the somewhat secret program: about past alumnae, other companies participating, what the course entailed, and the sponsorship that came with it. I realized it was really something. So I cleared my calendar as I was told, and went into the first in-person module last week ready but a little intimidated of the room and potential career ambition I was entering.
On that first day, we were split into five women peer boards. These were to be our trusted colleagues throughout the program. There was a high-power lawyer, an investment officer, a director of engineering, and a VP of population health in my group. Day one was centered around developing your "leadership story", leveraging the peers at your table as sounding boards.
Before we were allowed to go forth and craft the narrative, we listened to an example. The woman who started the program took the stage and beautifully, carefully took us through her leadership journey. From a debater in high school, to being top of her class at Cornell and Booth. She had a seat around the leadership table early in her career. There was a surprising and painful turn when she left the workforce to take care of her young sons. Sorrow as she talked about the passing of her role model. Inspiration when she returned to the workplace, again rising in the ranks. And a final chapter where she took her love of teaching and started a program that has empowered and enabled aspiring corporate leaders.
After I wiped a tear from my eye, I opened my workbook, along with the rest of my table, to page 8 and assessed the diagram where we were supposed to plot our career milestones. Above the x axis, the positives. Below, the challenges. And from there, the insights within each phase.
25 minutes. Go.
The lawyer to my right was writing quickly. The investment officer with her beautiful handwriting was slower, deliberate in each word.
I couldn't decide where to start. Hesitant to go back that far, but determined it was meaningful, I wrote my childhood. The household in which I was raised. Two highly ambitious professionals, three kids. The sacrifices and struggles that my parents might have felt, juggling two careers and a young family, never affected me. They were first and foremost, my parents. And I saw my Mom as the friend I went shopping with on the weekends, as my cheerleader on the field hockey and lacrosse field, as the best hug and kiss goodnight, and as the laughter I needed at the end of a day. She was so much more to her partners at the law firm, to her clients, and to the young women lawyers rising in a profession dominated by men, but to me, she was mom. And she played that role perfectly.
I marked off high school next. All girls, lacrosse, the stage. And then went on to college. More lacrosse, studying art history in Rome, and finding my faith. Following college, I dipped my pen way below the x axis and wrote, 'the bad place.' My friend Kate and I named it that. It's more anecdotal, less terrifying, if you call it something and find humor in it. The bad place was about joblessness and then a job that wasn't what I had dreamed for me. It was being unkind to my body and image. I had exited stage left and lost my spotlight. While others started to climb, I kept taking steps backward. I felt that I had failed someone, even if it was just myself.
In 2007, in direct opposition to the low I had charted, I sketched a high. MBA school. The start of a literal redirection in life. And the line right next to it had Peter's name on it. With a little heart floating on top.
After MBA school, my career story became a mix of having kids while trying to navigate corporate America. Mary was first. A high. But down below on the chart, was coming back to work, after dropping Mary at daycare. I cried for three days straight. We ran numbers at home. Could we make it work on one salary? While the answer was yes, it lacked confidence and conviction. So I went back, each day getting easier. Each negative line getting shorter and closer to neutral.
I drew a line way up north and put a star next to Eva's name. A year into my title of working mom, she became the star that enabled a bigger ambition.
Bobby came along, and I had no worries about going back and being able to do my job while my kids were getting the best care.
When I was pregnant with Margaret, I thought that it came at a bad time. I was finally getting somewhere - after so much hard work, people were recognizing my talent - taking a step away again would mean a delayed promotion while others moved up. I talked and then started crying to my VP who had become a champion for me. I didn't want my third maternity leave to inhibit my career trajectory. A couple months later, he was out, and a new VP was in. The idea of building my reputation with yet another leader seemed impossible - and I didn't want to keep waiting for what I felt was overdue to me.
I scheduled time with her. Without blinking an eye, I told her about the weight I had been carrying for years, the accomplishments of the team, driven by me. I took hold of the spotlight for the first time in years, and shined it back on me. I told her I needed a promotion. And if it didn't happen, I would need to look elsewhere. She listened and thanked me for my transparency.
I was promoted a month after returning from maternity leave.
That VP enabled more growth after that. Promoting me up to Sr. Director, a job I was nervous to take on as I found out, right around the same time, we were going to have twins.
But it worked. Rather, it's working. And here I am. A new line. Above the x axis, thinking about the potential of becoming a senior executive some day. With five kids. And in the last five minutes of our thinking session, I started wondering how this happened. How I got here.
I looked for the insights and the triggers on the page that made the pendulum switch. If I'm honest, I never thought I would have this opportunity and the matching ambition. I thought it was something my Mom and Dad had. That my brother and sister inherited. I thought I'd be a wife, a mom, a contributor. Comfortable and confident in those titles alone.
But there were people along this plot that changed my opinion of who I could be. Jennifer, who took a chance hiring me. Kasey, who imagined that a girl who did non-profit marketing could also do a job in menu strategy. Lance who figured out how good I was. Linda who took me under her wing and taught me how to think, shape, and communicate. Senior executives who have become sponsors and advocates. And that shining star, that makes me not question if my kids have the best care during the day.
But perhaps, none as important as the heart on my page. When I needed it most, Peter showed me that my reflection was beautiful as it was. He taught me that I was just as smart as the other people in the room. (Which I still don't believe, but I'm good at faking it). He brought back the confidence and sense of competition I had on the lacrosse field. During dinner, when I bring work into the conversation, he always listens, recommends, champions what to do. And most recently, he told me I shouldn't be afraid of what comes next. That we are in this together. That we'll make it work.
As we were asked to start sharing the narrative, I realized that my leadership story, is really our leadership story. And one that extends as much into our home as it does into the workplace. I realized that my ambition is a result of his love and support. And true to me, as I started to sharing this with my peer board, I let out a couple tears.
Peter and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary in California earlier this month ...
the twins first birthday shortly after ...
and a return to Notre Dame, where we first met 14 years ago.
While the next chapters in our journey are very uncertain, I think they will bring adventure. Some pages might be above the x axis, and some below, but I know that the heart way back in chapter four, will keep mine beating. And make sure being a Mom always come first.
