Because I’ve been writing on the Internet for a while I sometimes assume people know me. Some long-time readers do of course, and there are those of you who know me in real life and also read my writing (love you!). But many don’t, and as a reader myself I appreciate knowing about the person whose ideas and perspectives and opinions I’m hearing. So I thought I’d briefly introduce myself.
In a sort-of chronological order, here’s a bit about who I am and some of my experiences as a woman in the world.
I’m a firstborn. In some ways I’m a classic firstborn, and not in others. I have the high-achieving thing going on along with a tendency toward perfectionism, but I’m also a bit of a rebel and a free spirit.
I’m a tomboy, just like my mom was. I’m also the only girl in my family of origin. My masculine energy was strong to begin with—and only grew over time.
I started to really identify with my intellect and with feminism in college, where I was an English major at a liberal arts university.
I wanted to go to law school, but I wasn’t happy with my LSAT score (ahem perfectionism) so I applied to Teach For America. I got accepted and placed in LA. My first choice was New York City and Los Angeles was my second. I grew up on a farm but am somehow a city girl at heart (?).
I taught reading and writing for two years in the Los Angeles Unified School District and got an MA in Education at the same time. It was… a lot.
I wanted to come back to the Midwest after my two-year TFA commitment. My mom sent me a job posting she’d seen for an all girls start-up charter middle school in the Twin Cities. I flew back to interview for it and was hired on the spot. I spent five years teaching at that school, which was holistic, feminist, and educationally progressive. Those years I spent connecting with and listening to young women were some of the most beautiful and powerful of my life.
I dated and then married a man who challenged my liberal feminist views but whose intellect and heart I deeply respected. He has taught me a lot (and I know he’d say I’ve taught him a lot, too). We’ve been married for ten years and are committed to a quality, lifelong partnership.
I burned out of the teaching profession. I spent a few years nannying for a family and doing private tutoring, and it was during this time I began writing a blog and writing for various places on the Internet.
We had our first child and I became a “stay-at-home mom,” a choice that felt right in my soul but has been hard in many ways. I’ve also done paid work (freelance) intermittently while being home.
We now have three girls. Alice was born with a hospital midwife, Clare was born via cesarean with an OB, and Rosie was born in our living room with a homebirth midwife. Birth (and motherhood in general) has revolutionized my life.
I’m a misfit. My views and my choices have never fit into ideological boxes or categories of identity. I’m liberal in some people’s eyes and conservative in others’. I’m a crunchy mom except when I’m not. I love Jesus but often have a hard time with Christians. I used to feel lonely, but now I just feel free.
I’ll be 40 this summer. (What.)
Lastly, I write while mothering. I write in voice-to-text, the notes app on my phone, post-its or any scrap of paper that’s lying around, and then I try to put it all together at some point (and usually I’m interrupted). This means that in my writing there will be typos, errors, less-articulate-than-I’d-like sentences, things I meant to work in but forgot (or lost that scrap of paper), and places I could have connected the dots a little more clearly. This is something I’ve made peace with, because I’d rather write imperfectly than not write at all.
(I’ve made some progress on the perfectionism front.)
Thank you so much for being here. I can’t wait to share more.
P.S. Regarding the box you see below: this is the whole written post, but the audio version (where I read the post out loud) is only accessible to paid subscribers. Subscribe to One Tired Mother at $5/month to get not only post audios but also podcast rants that are too spicy or vulnerable for all the Internet to hear.