“The fear
of being a bad mother/wife/daughter.” – Sheryl Sandberg, in her book Lean In.
Back home,
it has taken me six years to convince my child that she is the best blessing I
have received. Her well-being is my prime concern. And I am work in progress.
It has
taken me ten long years to gain trust of my partner that I am standing with him
through all thick and thin. And I am work in progress.
It has
taken me almost three decades to convince my mother that my new
responsibilities don’t imply that I won’t fulfill the old ones. And I am work in
progress.
It has
taken same number of years to convince myself that I have not and hopefully
will not fail as a mother, wife or daughter. And I am work in progress.
Don’t get
me wrong. I don’t have a demanding or mistrusting family. It’s just that
healthy and loving relationships require continuous feeds of effort and demonstration.
It is not a legal bond which can be signed and then forgotten for the rest of
our lives. It’s an ongoing process of give and take. And thus, I continue to be
work in progress.
And yet the
holy trinity of fear grips me occasionally and I make desperate attempts to
walk in all directions, all at once, trying to cover everything. Guilt pangs do
paralyze my thought processes, making me de-prioritize my personal needs and
wants. “I miss you” statements make me want to give up.
Again, I am
not complaining. Any individual, male or female, balancing professional and
personal spaces face similar challenges. Our societal norms and cultural expectations
put more pressure on women of the world. But I surely have loads of respect for
our uber cool men who are standing hand in hand to shoulder the responsibilities.
At times
scared, at times worried, there is still a hidden strength in me that keeps me
going through all the mental and emotional turmoil. I have tried various models
to reach an optimal equilibrium of perfectly balanced roles. But I am work in
progress.
The other
day I faced the usual innocent question – “Mumma, why do you go to office every
day?” It’s a fairly common question, faced by most office-going parents. Like
many of them I too was about to share the financial implications of this
effort, making it sound like a win-for-all. But then I stopped. Instead I said,
“because I enjoy working.” I hope someday my little one will grow up appreciating
and imbibing the value of hard work.
And then
there are those days when the fear takes over. When her teacher asked me, “do
you hug her enough?”, I almost made a fool of myself by trying to count the
number of hugs per day. And when sanity returned, I realized my mistake. I have
been a part of all her growing up days. From her first word to her first step,
now her school recitals to neighbourhood performances, I have not missed
anything. I am a part of her days, every day.
As a wife
too, I am more participative than supportive. Unlike most couples, my husband
and I carry our office troubles with us to our home. We make some sort of case
studies out of them and discuss over a cup of coffee. And honestly, views of a
complete outsider help in giving perspectives which sometimes we otherwise miss.
I take pride in this sort of consistent and mutual mentorship. But I also
realise that this partnership will only work if both individuals continue to grow
in their respective zones. We understand the each other’s challenges, because
we go through them ourselves too.
Yet, there
are days when I am reprimanded by elders in family for not overseeing his food
and health habits. When blamed for this negligence, I do make a few futile
attempts to dictate terms to my fairly independent husband. And very honestly,
usually after these incidences, I am pushed to the other extreme of feeling
guilty of doubting his capabilities of fending for himself. Thus I don’t feed him,
I eat with him.
And then my
role of a daughter keeps oscillating between that of a care-giver and
care-receiver. At times I feel our fears and guilts are also mutual. From being
always there to being mostly away, our situation has changed over the years. Yet,
exchanging complaints and compliments, we continue to be together in this
journey.
These fears,
guilts and disappointments are as much part of me, as are love, care and sacrifice.
I love playing these roles as much as I love just being myself. In my quest of
completion, I continue to bring together these pieces of womanhood. And I am
work in progress.
