Crying in an airport bar is frowned upon, but as my son breaks down, due to exhaustion, illness, and missing his mama, it is an inevitable side effect.

I have spent the week trying to make a client who doesn’t like me happy. I produced a successful event and kept the the wheels turning and here I stand doubting my professional career. It meant being away from my son and husband for several nights and dealing with the every day stressors of being on show site. It meant answering emails at 6am and 9pm. It meant doing things I was never explicitly taught and enduring frustrating looks for things that were out of my hands.

My flight is delayed by several hours, making my return time almost midnight, which doesn’t matter anymore. I just want to get home and see my son. So I Facetime him and the result is sobbing. He is sick and sad and I am not there to comfort him and put all of my energies into making sure he is ok.

I spent my day dealing with a broken table in an exhibitors booth and accusations of it being the vacuum cleaners fault.

My failings at everything seem to be on full blast today. Watching my son cry results in me crying.

I am not succeeding today. I am barely passing.

On International Women’s Day I am dealing with what so many women face. The crushing reality of thinking you have it together and then suddenly finding yourself crying into a glass of wine at an airport bar because you realize you have nothing figured out.

 

 

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