Validating Motherhood.

On a part time basis I work as a Corporate Trainer. To say I love it would be a vast understatement. My favorite part? It provides a way for me to consistently keep my foot in the corporate world, and allows me to be at home with my kids.

Over the years I have taught workshops on various topics. Almost a year ago I was asked to present a workshop on stress management.

It seemed fitting considering the client was a worldwide investment and financial firm with countless overworked employees.

But I won’t name names.

As the workshop escalated from a live seminar in Salt Lake City to various offices across the country teleconferencing in, the client became increasingly particular about the content.

After numerous conference calls and emails back and forth they requested my current bio to be read at the beginning of the seminar. I sent them the most current version. I felt awkward having my work history spewed on paper in hopes of becoming valid and worthwhile, and above all worth listening to.

But they wanted credibility (I suppose) for the sake of a workshop.

When they sent me back my bio, it had morphed into their version of me. They had kept every piece of my history. They almost embellished it to make me sound good. Better. Like a makeover with words.

But as I took a closer look, at the end of my bio they consciously left out a very important detail:

Rivaling all these accomplishments, she’s a Mother.

They wanted no mention of my kids. I felt sick.

Was that part of my life not worth mentioning? Even when dealing with issues like STRESS MANAGEMENT?

Really?!

I often think back to that client. That workshop. Their, dare I say ignorant, mindset. By taking out that one sentence, they left out the best part of me. The most important thing I do. The things of which I am most passionate.

Why? Would I have been seen as a lesser professional woman because I am raising two children? How was that not valid?

Last week I was sitting on plane headed to Las Vegas to present a workshop. I sat across the aisle from a mom with two children.

I watched as she helped them with their books, poured their drinks, listened to their stories, answered their endless questions and cuddled them on her lap when they were too tired to sit up on their own.

As I sat there in my suit and heals, I thought of what society's perceptions of work is. Would someone ever think I offered more to the world than this woman because I was wearing a blazer and madly typing on a laptop?

I absolutely hope not. Because that would be devastatingly wrong.

I knew in a few hours my job would be complete, my plane would land, I'd drive home and my most important role would resume.

The one of which I am most proud.