I’m a stay at home mom who didn’t get the job.

I imagined a steak with a double side of crispy crowns for dinner when I did.

I imagined my husband coming home from work with flowers. I imagined him saying- “Congratulations baby, you did it!”

I imagined paying off my student loans instead of paying expanding interest on the principal.

I imagined having access to health insurance and a 401k to match my skill set.

I imagined paying a mortgage on my own home – not rent on someone else’s.

I imagined stability for my kids after retreating from the workforce for four years, on one slim income to raise them.

I imagined more for my family by now, imagined my kid watching me soar.

I imagined social blooming for me, life-long friends for my kid.

A normal schedule, sunlight at the end of a very dark and trying tunnel.

I imagined being among the living again, crawling out of the cave called stay at home motherhood.

I imagined adult interactions and a brand new enthusiasm for human contact.

I imagined all the situations, education, and time leading up to this moment and how they all led to this one.

Full time mom and powerhouse, I imagined.

A first interview, a second, a third with a facility tour! It felt like it was finally in my reach.

But I couldn’t have it all.
“I’m calling with bad news.” they said.

I imagined being defined by my career – then just as quickly – I imagined being defined by a lack of one.

I imagined a complicated and lonely truth about stay at home motherhood that I hadn’t been told before.

I imagined the feeling of being 10 years old and being told that a career woman and motherhood would be mutually exclusive.

I imagined a world where going to work was a luxury for women, and staying at home was a full time, paying job.

I imagined that if, comprehensively, all the things I mastered as a stay at home mom could be listed as experience – I’d be overqualified.

“It was a difficult decision.” they said.
I imagined that it was.

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