From 1 November, I will only work four days per week.
This should be the “yay! I only work four days a week soon!” post but it’s not.
Three years ago I was single and living alone. In that time I met the beloved, met the monkeys, the beloved and the monkeys moved in, we bought a house, we got the beloved through the divorce process, we got married, we moved my Mum in and we got a dog. That is a lot of change. If you add to that in the last five years I have moved jobs, moved cities and moved house three times, it’s an overwhelming amount of change and I’ve done it all with the messy brain that I’ve had since childhood.
It’s a lot to cope with, and I’ve not coped. I’ve been stressed, sad and heartbroken that all of these wonderful things have been happening and I haven’t been able to feel them. I’ve dealt with all of it with a full time job. Something had to give.
I tried to work more flexibly. A day a week at home and compressed hours to get some time for myself. The firm I work for has been good about it all but it’s not done the job and there’s a simple reason for that.
I do not want to push myself as hard anymore. There are a lot of reasons I could give for wanting to reduce my hours at work. I have a large family with complex needs and any one of them would be a great reason on a checklist for a flexible working application. The truth is I do not want to work full time. There is a toddler inside of me having a tantrum anytime anyone asks for my reasons for moving to part time. I. DON’T. WANT. TO. I don’t want to work full time anymore.
My inner toddler is so insistent it feels selfish to listen to her. There are loads of reasons to stay full time. The money, for one. Ambition and career. The need for there to be more women at the top in business. My self-esteem. Setting an example of hard work to the monkeys.
It’s the last one that gives me pause. I get up early to make sure everyone is cared for. Monkeys up, dog walked. I get ready and let the monkeys see me go to work every day. They know I work late, I have to work at home, that they have to be quiet. They see me do all of this and they see me tired, stressed and wrung out. This is not a lesson I want to pass on.
I want them to know that they can be anything they want if they work hard. That a formal education is no match for intelligence, application and a willingness to roll your sleeves up. I want them to know that work can be a safe place to be yourself. That it can make you feel confident and powerful. I want them to know the confidence that can come from doing a job well. That a friendship made at work can last for years. That earning your own money means security and never needing to rely on anyone else to pay your rent. The most important thing I want them to know is that none of this matters if it is at the expense of your spirit. That if you’ve tried everything you can and it’s still not making you happy then it is ok to listen to your inner toddler. That it is ok for your priorities to change and that if the reason is “I don’t want to” then it’s not only valid but revolutionary.
My name is Fizzy. From the 1 November I will only work four days a week because that’s what I want and what I want matters.
photo credit: Annie Spratt