Ed. note: This is the latest installment in a series of posts on motherhood in the legal profession, in partnership with our friends at MothersEsquire. Welcome TK back to our pages. Click here if you’d like to donate to MothersEsquire.
When I was an undergraduate, I wrote a thesis as the culmination of my participation in the Ronald E. McNair Scholars Program (a federally funded program that encourages first-generation and underrepresented students to pursue graduate-level degrees). My thesis was titled “The Triathlon of Roles: The Myth of the Black Superwoman.” Essentially, it explored media pressure on African American women to be career women, mothers, and leaders; to be of service to the community.
Even then, the weight of expectations and the pursuit of excellence were already familiar companions. As a first-generation Black female college student, I felt the immense pressure to succeed, not only for myself but also as a trailblazer for others who might follow. The title of my thesis itself seems prophetic, as today I find myself navigating a trinity of roles that define my life: a solo attorney, a mother of four very young children, and the wife of an Air Force retiree pursuing his own professional degree.
The dichotomy of womanhood in the 21st century can be overwhelming. It’s a delicate dance between pursuing your passions and fulfilling societal expectations. I often ponder whether the pressure I feel is primarily external or if it originates from within. Regardless of its source, the pressure is undeniably real. But does anyone ever talk about the pressure to feel guilty?
As a solo attorney, I love what I do. I take pride in representing my clients and being a pillar of support in my community. However, I also grapple with the immense responsibility that comes with my profession. As a small business and landlord-tenant attorney, people entrust me with their investments, legacies, and homes. The weight of that trust can be burdensome.
I cherish the fact that my children can proudly say, “My mommy is an at-Ernie (attorney).” Yet, I despise those moments when I have to tell them I’m too busy with work to join them for a game or a bedtime story. The struggle to balance professional goals with the desire to be present for my family is a constant battle.
Being a solo practitioner and a mother of four means that there’s often no one to pass the baton to in times of crisis. One recent incident perfectly encapsulates my reality: Imagine my horror upon sending my 4-year-old son to brush his teeth, he chose that moment to attempt to secure his future as a track star. Despite repeated warnings about running in the house, especially with socks on, my son went headfirst into the bathtub.
Upon seeing his head when he emerged from the bathroom screaming at the top of his lungs and asking for a Band-Aid, I have never been surer of three things in life 1) Kids think a Band-Aid fixes everything, 2) I was never meant to be a doctor, and 3) I knew I was about to be a late-nighter in the ER. My husband was willing to take our son to the hospital, but as the mother, I felt the need to be there.
This happened on the eve of a significant trial, and no one could fill in for me. At 3 a.m., I returned home, juggled last-minute preparations until 5 a.m., took a brief one-hour nap, and reported to court at 8:30 a.m. I don’t regret taking my son to the ER myself. I consider it my privilege to be my children’s primary source of comfort. But this is the unvarnished truth of my life — a life where exhaustion is my constant companion.
Self-care, while essential, feels like yet another obligation to add to my overflowing to-do list. The concept of “mom guilt” has become ingrained in my identity. Yet, amid all these challenges, the greatest guilt I carry is that I genuinely love my job, and I also love my family. I don’t believe these affections are mutually exclusive. However, as I went to court that day, I felt overwhelmed. I was angry at myself for being unable to do it all easily. I felt like I couldn’t fully be present for my children or my career; I catastrophized that I was failing everyone. I ended up winning a judgment in my client’s favor, more than I had hoped for. But when the results came out, how quickly my feeling like I was doing the impossible became a certainty that the final reward justified the sacrifice. I know I can’t be the only one to whom this happens, the constant push and pull of whether the sacrifice is worth it, followed by moments of reprieve and relief, knowing that the sacrifice indeed paid off. At the end of that week, I felt like the juggling paid off. It doesn’t always feel that way. And yet I hold on to those moments of success.
Is it acceptable to embrace both roles without making excuses, like saying “I work because my family needs the income?” Today, most mothers in America work, but it often feels like society only deems it acceptable if we carry a constant sense of guilt about it. I think every parent knows the saying that “women are expected to work as if they do not have children and raise children as if they do not work.” I would add, “And don’t enjoy either too much.”
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve encountered comments implying that my choice to work is a sign of materialism, that I’ve forsaken my children for a career, or that my priorities are skewed. That’s not true. I could tell you about each incident because these comments cut deep; they challenge the very essence of who I am — a woman who adores being a wife and mother and who is passionate about her legal career.
The major wage earner for our family, I can’t say that working is a choice, but I can say that building a career I love is. Every day I am fulfilling my professional aspirations while being a loving and present partner and mother. It’s not a matter of delegating my responsibilities to others; it’s about embracing their multifaceted nature.
Life as an attorney and a mother is a complex and challenging journey. It’s a journey that involves acknowledging the struggles while unapologetically celebrating the joys. And because it’s a journey, I am still moving toward the aim: To be both a dedicated lawyer and a loving mother without feeling the need to apologize for either.
Bio TK.