Want to start by confessing: I don’t have this figured out.
I’m not writing this from the other side, with a happy and easy ending. I’m writing this blog when I am exhausted, still searching a job, proud of myself some days and completely lost on others.
Before my son came along, I was good at my job. Work pressure and being competitive felt natural. I had a professional identity I wore with pride and joy.
Anyone can go on talking about the logistics of going back to work — the daycare, the schedules, the mental load. Nobody talks about the shift in identity and the frustration that follows — sitting in meetings feeling like a stranger. Nobody highlights the guilt that comes from both sides: leaving your child, but also secretly enjoying an hour of work so much that you forgot, just for a moment, that you were a mother.
My son is a little older now. I am still rebuilding. Some days feel like progress. Others, I’m just surviving — and I’ve stopped pretending that I have it all figured out.
What I’m slowly learning and accepting is that this isn’t a straightforward comeback chapter. It’s tougher and quieter. It’s showing up on the hard days and believing in yourself.
If any of this sounds familiar — you’re not alone.
Amazing Anindita