The Day a Man at the Bank Changed my Life

Hello Mums,

I’m doing a little first post dance. It’s more of a seat shuffle. In any case, welcome ūüôā

I used to have a small, more personal blog on motherhood but that’s now closed. I gave this one a name that didn’t work –¬†Home To Mums (it was difficult to pronounce for some, for others it made them think of furniture?) what did you think of that name? Anyway, so I changed it and now I’m happy here as MummyFix.

Not fix, as in¬†putting something thats broken back together . Mums are¬†not broken. Were far from. This Fix means a good addiction, something you enjoy. We’ll talk more about that later, right now,¬†I want to tell you guys about the time I went to the bank as a new mum.

I had a brand new little baby, who I was proud everyday to not only keep alive, but also watch putting on weight on milk I was giving her – breastfeeding is like a superpower! I hadn’t slept much, but I was coping and actually life was pretty good, I was figuring out that being a Mummy was something I could do and do well.

Then it happened.

That day I went to the bank with a mission.  My bank account had been opened for me by my Dad when I was a kid, and I had just continued using it for over 20 years, up until the point where I was being paid my professional job salary into it. Today the guy at the bank wanted to update all my information. Since, I had nowhere else to be urgently, I think baby was fast asleep with my Mum supervising her, I was good for another hour or so, before it was milking time again. I said OK.

He asked questions and I answered, then he got to the part about what I do.

I said I was on maternity leave – in my head this was correct, but he was not satisfied.

“When are you returning to work?” said Mr Banker man.

“I’m not sure”.

“Ok, so right now you don’t have a job.”

“No”.

I kept thinking, blogger, I blog. I had just started spending hours documenting my journey through motherhood so others can learn and not make the same mistakes I made. Maybe even just one person? I thought it was good that it was also¬†keeping my brain active for when I returned to work. ¬†I could share stories about motherhood without boring my close friends, most of who at the time didn’t have kids. But the B word refused to¬†come out.

He then said: “would it be fair to say you’re unemployed?”

I found myself nodding. Even though a big voice in me said “No, I reject it”.

“So I’ll put unemployed down here”. The banking clerk¬†was still talking.

I managed a low, almost whispered ‘yes’.

Some kind of feeling came over me.

What am I doing – I thought to myself.

And so there it was. The man at the bank confirmed what I had struggled to admit to myself at the time.

I was unemployed.

To bring more money into a bank account I would need a job and I needed to face the reality and start thinking about my future. Did I want to go back to work, I had been interviewing, did I really want to change the wheels and do something radical, different? What was stopping me? Beyond the job interviews. Beyond prospective job option A finance. Beyond prospective job option B in an industry that was slowly grinding to a halt with talk of redundancies. Were was I going to lay the roots of my next career.

Twelve months before that, I had left my old job, complete with clear career progression path, out of sheer arrogance and determination to find myself something that I was passionate about and loved to do. ¬†I remember meeting the Head of HR to explain my decision to go and having her ask me time and time again… “what are you doing, what are you doing, take unpaid leave?”. I want dot go somewhere¬†I fitted in, somewhere I could do my job and not feel like I had to wear a mask. I did not like smart casual clothes, I hated heels (not compulsory, but made me look sharp, older and in control), I hated not seeing people who I could aspire to, who looked like me.

I said no to Ms HR and now I really had a chance to do all I had said.

The bank clerk probably just thought he was doing his job, filling a form, but he forced me to admit to myself that I I needed to make a decision to either do the professional job or take seriously the new route Рthe unrecognised, unrewarded, unpaid and possibly unsatisfying (I did I know what it really entailed then) job. Blogging.

That was how that day¬†I gave myself permission to put everything I can, into an area that is so important but the world has become accustomed to telling us is a side-job. Something to do and quickly return to life and work as you know it. Something to fit into your ‘real’ life. But many¬†of us in it know – Mums, know that once you become a Mother, your world changes forever, and navigating that journey becomes a whole new WORLD of its own. You can put in support, you can delegate, but even when your child is sleeping well, you don’t sleep the same ever again. And if you’re like me, you have this quest, this fire in you to parent the best way you can.

That day , I decided I was going to mother and I was going to empower other mums too, in their parenting journey.

This¬†blog is about doing that. It’s two years later, but thats a story for another day.

At first I thought I was going to just be giving out information, but 500 posts on Instagram later, I realised I was gaining a lot of insights from other mums . Friends and online friends. I figured out mummy fix is really a collective sharing space.¬†We’re¬†a¬†community of mums making the journey easier for each other, by sharing our experiences, discovering helpful tips and talking about all the difficult, fun, fulfilling, tiring, rewarding days of parenting and life.

It’s good to have you here.¬†Go forth¬†and get your fix (that’s short for come in, read, discover & share your nuggets of wisdom too)!

Join the circle here and never miss a post!

*ps ok, so he didn’t change my life in the dramatic sense, but forced me to have a conversation that did! Shout out to my friend, Hannah, who told me to write about the bank experience.

 

Leave a Reply