Twelve days after my second son was born, I received a call from my boss’s boss. Not recognizing the number, I didn’t answer. When I called my boss to see why his boss called me, I heard the devastating news: the company I’d worked for over 12 years had laid off my entire team. We thought we were safe. Just two weeks before I delivered my son, we’d been in a meeting with everyone who was supposed to be part of the “go-forward team.” Despite the blow, I was fortunate to have seven months of severance, which allowed me to keep my son home for the full 16 weeks of my maternity leave. Afterward, he went to daycare, and I began job hunting.
For years, I’d envisioned leaving my corporate job only if I had enough money to retire or if my husband received a substantial raise. In my ideal scenario, I would work part-time at a small company, something in personal finance, giving me more time with my kids. When I reached out to a friend who worked as a financial advisor, he told me he was moving to a smaller financial firm and they were looking for a back-end financial planner. The firm was religiously affiliated and had two women employees who kept their kids at home full-time. It seemed like a perfect fit.
While it felt like a dream come true, my heart still ached. Losing my corporate job was a hard pill to swallow. I now earn about half of my previous salary, with no benefits, and work under an advisor whose arrogance is hard to bear. Life isn’t perfect anywhere, but the contrast between how great and not great everything is can be confusing.
I often wonder if leaving this job after completing my certification credentials to work full-time elsewhere for a higher salary would be the right move. However, that would likely mean less influence over client plans and reduced time with my 2- and 4-year-old sons. My husband makes good money, but he is underpaid for his qualifications and workload. If he earned 50% more, I believe I’d feel less conflicted. My dream is to work part-time but not out of necessity.
Ironically, we have enough money for me to stop working if we maintain our current expenses, but I’m not spending the way I’d like to. We prioritize high-quality food and supplements, but I’ve cut back on other areas that used to bring me joy, like getting my hair colored, nails done, and buying new clothes. Now, I shop for clothes at Costco and skip beauty treatments altogether. It feels trivial to complain about these things, but seeing friends with higher incomes living more luxuriously adds to my sense of loss. However, they too have conflicted souls. They send their kids to full-time daycare and often feel stressed by their limited time together because they need to focus on getting things done rather than spending time playing with their kids. I cherish every moment with my kids, knowing this time is fleeting, yet I’m aware of my worth and the skills I could leverage for a higher income.
Despite the unresolved feelings, one thing remains clear: I love my time with my children. I’m grateful for a job that allows me to pursue many of my passions. Every morning, as I walk in the rising sun while most people I know are stuck in Zoom meetings behind office desks, I know I’m where my heart belongs—at home, in the sunshine, with my babies.
Suburban Sprout 