A Mother of A Mentor

My first job out of college was as a writer for a daily newspaper. Since then, I’ve worn lots of hats: scriptwriter, event manager, PR pro, media director, chief marketing officer, published author, motivational speaker (to name a few). At this point in my life, I pretty much feel as if I've experienced at least three lifetimes worth of highs and lows and everything in between. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm on track to deliver on the advice of American journalist and author Hunter S. Thompson:

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"

As much as I'm now an open book (literally), it took some time getting to where I am. While I always have loved talking with people, hearing their stories, and sharing them with others, telling my own tale didn't necessarily come so easily. As a matter of fact, it took a decade-plus of therapy to actually vomit it out. What I had grown up with and had kept secret for so much of my life refused to stay silent any longer. And in 2015, my first book THE S WORD got published. While Brené Brown has made vulnerability a healing mission, for me at the time my memoir launched, it felt more like "indecent exposure"; now looking back, I can say that it proved to be one of the most humbling and terrifying and freeing experiences of my life. My story made a difference for others, and helped me make sense of how much madness and magic were woven into my very DNA for a greater purpose.

Part of that purpose became clearer to me this past October. That first job at the newspaper included a first boss and my first introduction to a female leader with a seat at the table where she was the only XX chromosome surrounded by mostly old-school XYs. I didn't realize or appreciate it back then in my twenties, I'm sure, but today I am so grateful to have had such a powerful, intelligent, loud, gracious, funny, and caring woman from whom to learn so early on in my professional career. She was a "mother" in every sense of the word: A single mom at home, and a queen bee to all of her staff while at work. The few times she gifted me with joining her in some of her executive meetings, I watched as she made her voice heard without apologies or batting a single eyelash. She gave me my first real glimpse into the best of what it meant to be a leader, regardless of gender.

So imagine my surprise last year to learn that a copy of my book had made it into her hands -- all the way to Denmark where she has been living for decades. THAT was a "WOW!" moment for me for sure. Her tracking me down, phoning me up, and telling me she was crossing an ocean to come see me -- well, THAT was a minion-worthy WHAAATTT?! moment that still makes me feel special.

When we reconnected last October in Chicago, she looked just as I remembered her: beautiful, buxom, and full of life. Her voice was still as powerful and, yet, sing-songy as I recalled. And her warm embrace was like coming home to mother after being away for so long. She shared her own journey from the time we last saw one another to present day. She was so open, so real in telling her own truths.

What did take me a bit by surprise was hearing her, as if apologizing, saying the words, "I didn't know." She had no idea of the madness that consumed my home life - caring for a mom and a sister, both diagnosed paranoid schizophrenics - while working for her and doing my job. She had no reason to apologize. Why would she have known anything? I made sure she never did. I was a star-player and high-performer. I had learned to stay silent, to keep it together, to deliver on my promises, and to be a success. Never mind that as I climbed that ladder externally, I was slowly killing myself internally.

Sadly, it seems to be what many of us do. We seek fulfillment and acceptance from the outside. We protect ourselves by keeping others at arms-length. We don't reach out to try and know what it's like to walk in someone else's shoes. Likewise, we don't even attempt to let others in to learn what it's like to walk in ours. How can we expect to know anyone else or for them to know us? How can we even come to truly know ourselves?

Growing up, I feared my own mother and her disease of which I was ignorant. Having grown up, I know now what I didn't know then: that my mother was real and strong and talented...and mentally ill. She also was my first mentor and one of my greatest teachers. Far from being ashamed of her and the mental illness that is part of my family legacy, I embrace it and share it, in the hopes that my experiences help others surrounded by their own madness realize their magic within. Throughout my professional career, I was fortunate, as well, to have had several mother figures in the workplace, mentors who were strong, wise, real, caring, and fair. They were another kind of mother who showed up for me when I needed it and when I allowed myself to receive it.

This world needs more authentic mothering mentors.

Today in the work environment, there's a lot of talk about culture and awareness and sensitivity and acceptance and equality and zero-tolerance and work-life balance. We have a lot of social commentary and political campaigns talking about tolerance and ending stigma and stopping discriminatory practices. But I don't believe I'm not the only one who sees a disconnect in what we say and what we're actually experiencing: Everything from acts of hatred, to feelings of unworthiness, to age and gender bias, to retaliation tactics, to privilege and payoffs... With so much talking, I wonder why we seem to be no better off, or perhaps even worse, when it comes to just being real and to being the best of what it means to be human? Why are we still so fearful of one another, of our futures, of ourselves...? Why are we allowing ourselves and others to stay ignorant and to hide truths?

May is Mental Health Awareness Month and today is Mother's Day. Both are of major significance and uniquely tied one to the other for me. I host a podcast for caregivers and people who love those struggling with a mental illness - I'm With Crazy: A Love Story. And I work with women who are climbing that ladder and still feeling as if something inside is missing. I hope this article and this podcast resonates with you, no matter what madness or magic you find yourself in at this moment. As always, I welcome hearing your stories and learning more from you.

#Mothers #mentalhealth #stigma #mentor #powerful #women #leader #bosslady #caregivers #podcast