I Have a Burning Question - Answering Two Reader Questions This Week

Question 1: I’m Pregnant and Miserable, Should I Leave?

Name: Tallia in San Diego, a 33-year old mom of one and pregnant with baby number two, who explains she’s trapped in a remote tech sales career.

What's Your Question?

Hey Mandy,

I’ve been struggling because I can’t figure out if I no longer want to be in tech sales or if I am just really unhappy at my current job. I’m afraid to make a change because I have a 1 year old and I am 3 months pregnant. I fear no one will want to hire me because I’m pregnant & I really don’t want to navigate a lot of change while also dealing with personal change of having 2 under 2.

If I did not get pregnant I definitely would have left this job and would have started interviewing, but now I just feel like I’m stuck here and have to push through it until April when I have this baby. I also don’t know if tech sales is really even for me. My number one priority is my family and having my kids see their mom happy with what she does every day, not dreading each day of work. I’d love to get your advice on how to navigate this!

First of all, congratulations! What a magical time in your life, as you’re growing your family. It sounds like you have all of your priorities in order. You know that you want to be a good mom, and that you want to model what happiness and fulfillment looks like — not misery.

In my experience, going from one kid to two is hard in some ways and easier in others. Hard because now you have to deal with the emotional needs of two little ones, you have to configure how you travel and get places, and one or both kids is always, always in some kind of teething or potty training or sleep regression stage. Easier because you (generally) fret less, you’re less precious, it’s not your first rodeo. With my second, I was better about sleep training, about discipline, and generally promoting more independence. You’re going to do great!

You are probably also going to step into the cauldron of “I don’t have time for bullshit,” where your ability to pretend to care about things goes to nearly zero. Personally, I found that my tolerance for time wasting meetings and miserable clients disappeared. I didn’t have the bandwidth for it; I had to go pick up a kid from daycare, there was an outbreak of hand, foot, and mouth. It is the great fire that you walk through — also, because there are SO MANY demands on your time and energy, that how you spend your time matters.

You give and give to everyone all the time — you’re the emotional support for your friends, your partner, your own parents, that what you do for yourself becomes even more pronounced. It feels even more urgent. You mean I’m going to take care of everyone, literally wipe my children’s butts, go grocery shopping, clean the house, manifest my dreams, and then also work at a job that I hate? No. No. I cannot and will not. Maybe I still need to wash the dishes and put the sippy cups away at the end of the night, but goddamnit, I will not be in tech sales if I don’t want to be.

I don’t even have time to watch Netflix, I can’t do this anymore!!!

We just draw the line. This is probably what will happen to you. So your curiosity, your urgency here, is warranted. You’re a mind reader, a future predictor. On some level, you know that you’re likely to hate your job more, not less, as time goes on. This isn’t an emotional question. This is a tactical one.

Which is, well, hi. I’m pregnant. And it’s my second, so I’m going to be showing any minute now (if I’m not already). I’m not interested in hiding my pregnancy (what is it, 2009?), so am I really ready to sign up for a job search IN THIS ECONOMY while acknowledging my increasingly pregnant condition? It’s like signing up for a marathon…in the snow…on top of a mountain. A sane person would usually avoid it, if possible.

Not you!! Hahaha. Listen, there will never be a good time. Because then it will be, I just gave birth, it’s not a great time . Then, it will be, the baby is six months, and they’re not sleeping through the night, and then…and then. It’s alway something.

So here’s my advice: just start now. See how far you get. Figure out what you want to do more than tech sales. And start going for it. But here’s the rule you must agree to: if at any time you feel like it’s too much, give yourself permission to stop. Give yourself ultimate grace, any and all outs that you need, at any time, no questions needed. If you get tired, just take a rest. If you suddenly lose all motivation and need to lie on the couch, while your one-year old crawls around, do it. If you fall into a crying rage because life is just unfair, and why the hell did I sign up for tech sales anyway, let yourself cry.

Side note: one time, when pregnant with my second, a daughter — I went downstairs at 10 pm to get some soy milk. My mom was staying with me and she used to make this homemade soy milk which was great because I was ravenous all the time, and this was a low-sugar drink that I could have at all hours. I opened up the fridge and there wasn’t any soy milk. I closed the fridge and collapsed into tears.

“Why isn’t there soy milk?” I pleaded, between sobs.

“Who drank my soy milk?” my shoulders heaving. I crawled back into bed and lay there feeling sorry for myself, for all the mothers out there without their comfort drinks.

So I get it. I can talk about how you should “go for it” but my kids are 8 and 10 years old now, and they can make themselves a snack and do their multiplication tables. I’m sitting high on the hog. You’re in the thick of it. Please take whatever I say with a grain of salt.

Another idea: don’t make any sudden moves and just ride it out. Know that perhaps your anxiety about your career is real, but also perhaps a refracted fear that is seated in something more primal: about stepping into your power, about how you’ll be a mother of two and there’s no going back, about how the first pregnancy was hard and you can’t really control anything and so maybe the one thing you can control is your career. Maybe play it as a wait and see. Understand yourself and your nature. Are you someone who wants dramatic change (hey, my whole life is shifting anyway, what’s one more thing) or are you someone who is most at peace when things are slow and steady? Then, honor that. And if it means burning the whole place down and starting an at-home candle making business and getting back to your creative pursuits, then, it was going to happen anyway. Or, if it means that you’ll just give 30% less to work because who cares, but they pay well, and this is a healthy practice of detachment — and you’ll be so busy getting pre-natal massages and listening to your Hypnobabies CDs, that who cares, then you can go that route, too.

In short, motherhood and pregnancy is a wild ride. It is its own dark night of the soul. Be honest with yourself and what you want, and be the model that you want to be for your kids, and most importantly, for yourself. We love you mama!

Finally, practical advice: I know some moms who revealed during the second interview that they were expecting, but reassured the interviewer that they already had a kid, they knew how it goes, and that they would want a simple 3-month maternity leave, no more. That they had the support at home and the commitment to come back. Rest assured. I also know other moms who didn’t say a peep until they had the offer in hand, and then did the grand reveal. The employer doesn’t love that necessarily, but they have to pretend they do. If it were me, I’d probably just be an honest mess from the get — but I think either method works. Sometimes, you interview with a dude who’s married with kids and he just gets it and literally doesn’t care. You might get lucky!

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Question 2: How Do I Make Time for my Creative Projects?

Name: Tilia in England, UK, a single mom of two teenagers, caring for her aging parents, and working full-time in a corporate job (diagnosed with ADHD later in life).

What's Your Question?

I've been trying to become a self-published writer for a decade. I’ve learned a lot about writing and marketing, spending lots of time and money in the process, but I struggle to finish projects. Life, work, and family responsibilities always take over. When I get back to my book, I feel disconnected and start a new project instead, thinking this time will be different.

I’m stuck in my job because my family depends on me, but I can't find the time or energy to finish a book while working 40 hours and taking care of everyone. This in turn fuels my resentment toward the job that isn't even that bad, just not something I want to keep doing for the rest of my life.

Hi Tilia,

I love this question. Let’s talk about creativity and the process of building trust with ourselves. Carl Jung, the famous dream-obsessed psychologist, said that creativity sits at the seat of the shadow. The shadow is the part of ourselves that doesn’t fit into the ego ideal that we often search for. It’s all of the undesirable and socially unacceptable parts, that we try to shove away and ignore. It’s also the honest and wild part of ourselves, and what is creativity if not honesty on the page, on the canvas? When we see a work of art, it strikes us emotionally. We feel connected. We feel a zap. Because we recognize truth in the specificity.

The ego seeks stability and control; creativity needs a bit of uncertainty and freedom in order to let loose and run around. But creativity is a fickle beast. It never wants to come when we call it. It ignores us often. Sometimes it feels like it hates us. We have to build structures that provide support for the creativity. We have to build that trust. We have to take risks.

I think you should try starting smaller, and committing to finishing those projects. As in, write a blog post, but commit to it in tiny increments. Like, I am going to start a blog, I don’t even care if anyone reads it, but I am going to post once a month. Or small even still: I’m going to start an Instagram account where I find a cute, neutral picture and then I write a paragraph and post it. You are going for a streak, and the tiny public nature of it will keep you motivated.

Or I don’t know! You have to figure out what motivates you. Look for clues from your past. What are the ways that you tricked yourself into doing things? Are you someone who enjoys momentum, and wants to see a calendar with visuals and little check marks next to each day? Or are you someone who wants the companionship in a challenge, and would be well suited to finding a writing group?

Don’t say I’m going to run a marathon. Start with a nice little stroll around the block. Start with one push-up. That’s it. You need to teach yourself that you can trust yourself to finish it.

Writing is horrible, I totally know what you mean. It’s is mentally excruciating; you try to write, it’s shit. You never have enough time. Your sentences are never flowing; they’re a jumbly mess. For so long I wanted to be a writer, but I had nothing to show for it. There were so many manuscripts, unfinished. So many 3-page vignettes of steamy romance scenes, not completed. I was ashamed, convinced I was a fraud, not living up to my potential! What is the point of this? But still, I wanted to write. It’s the great mistress that I was determined to pursue, even though she constantly blew me off.

Let’s address the central conflict: you say that family and work responsibilities always take over. I’m going to give you advice but I’m really talking to myself, too — because I struggle with this. Today, when I was trying to finish my manuscript, I had to stop to make dinner, switch over the laundry, sign for a package, fix the stuck pages in my printer, feed the cats (twice), do the cat poop, bring the Walmart.com delivery inside, put away those groceris — omg, I am going to stop because this list is never fucking ending.

What I’ve learned is, all those chores will always be there. You have to choose, at least 50% of the time, yourself. The dishes can wait. Everything can wait. Choose at least one hour or two hours for yourself. Put your phone in the other room. Close the door. Put your headphones on. Get out of the house, for goodness sake. Bring your laptop to a coffee shop while the kids are at school, and for your 45-minute lunch break, try to make some progress. Play with the form. Maybe it’s a novel, or a novella, or it’s a multi-chapter series (did you see that woman on TikTok who is releasing her book chapter by chapter on Substack—bold!), or it’s a journaling practice by hand. Re-read The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg.

Lastly, what you need is time. Because you know how in writing, it takes a little while to get warmed up. You can’t just steal away 20 minutes in between meetings and write the Great American, or in your case, Great British Novel. There’s a descent. There’s an unfolding, a deepening, a loosening, a letting go to become a channel for the writing to take over and flow through you. So perhaps all you need to do is focus on stealing / taking / defending / enjoying TIME. TIME FOR YOURSELF.

Start with little ways, like going to TJ Maxx and walking around, playing hooky (I don’t know if they have TJ Maxx in the UK, it’s like a discount store where you can buy eye masks and pajamas and kitchen gadgets that you don’t need). Or start by sitting on the couch, with a book, and respond with a non-committal “hmm?” anytime one of the kids asks for something, instead of getting up and getting them something. Train them that MOMMY IS BUSY RIGHT NOW. Or just ignore your parent’s calls for one hour before you call them back (at this very moment, my dad is texting me, he’s not getting a response BECAUSE I’M WRITING, I’m still a good daughter, it will all be okay).

Basically, ignore (in a kind, loving, gentle, firm way) the needs of others. It’s YOUR time. It’s YOUR moment. Fuck everything else!!! I’m taking a bath right now and sipping on sparkling apple juice and reading smut and writing in my journal, go away world!

One last idea: when you inevitably come back to your half-finished project, you feel disconnected and like, what was I even trying to say here? This is just about sitting with the discomfort. Looking at your terrible writing. You stare at it, it stares back at you. Don’t abandon it. Try to make it just a little better. Re-read it. Start from the top. Then start from the bottom. Fix it up. Try to write the next sentence. Or rewrite the last sentence you did. What you’re trying to do is just get into the TRANCE of writing, because it is a state of mind more than anything else. Don’t start over. You need to train yourself to finish, even if it’s “I finished a terrible novel,” that’s better than “I started seven different novels and never finished.”

Thank you for the question. It was therapeutic for me, also. HUGS!!!!!!!!

Love,

Mandy

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PS. I, too, noticed the synchronicity of these two readers with similar names (Tallia, Tilia!?), which I promise I am not making up. I only realized when I started cutting and pasting, and was like, wait, did I just copy over the same thing twice by accident? Nope. The universe would like you to read these near-twin submissions, and who am I to intervene?

PPS. If you have a reader question, feel free to submit it to the I Have a Burning Question form. I don’t answer all of them, but I certainly do answer many of them — including one about the shame of being fired, that was recently featured in my YouTube channel.