life

One Year On: What has making professor actually meant for my day to day

girlymicro Academic Life, Healthcare Science, Leadership, Research/Academia , , , , ,

It’s been just over a year since it was confirmed that I’d been made an Honourary Professor at UCL. It’s such an odd and yet brilliant thing to achieve the thing you never really believed would happen. Also, because I had dreamed but never thought it would be a reality, I don’t think I’d ever thought about what difference, if any, it would actually make. I thought I would, therefore, write this blog post to help all the dreamers, like me, who might benefit from some details about what it feels like after you’ve finally crossed the finish line.

Everything and nothing

I suppose the first thing to say is both that everything has changed, but in many ways nothing has. My job for all intents and purposes is exactly the same as it was, do clinical work and try to embed research along the way.

The biggest change is probably the level of respect you get from some people based on title alone. This happened to me when I made Consultant as well. You still get dismissed, or challenged (which isn’t a bad thing), but it happens less and somehow is generally done in a nicer way. This isn’t universally true of course, but the majority of interactions are smoother. In some ways this fascinates me, as I’m the same person. The social interplay linked to this hierarchy is something I’d love to go into more at some, but as much as it’s nice I’m not sure it’s how we should work.

The other thing has made my heart full on multiple occasions. I’ve had a number of people come up and tell me spontaneously how happy they are for me, which is lovely, but they’ve followed up with ‘you making professor makes me think it’s something that I can aspire for’, which is even better! I’ve had other people say I can’t be a professor because of my age, background, or gender, but not in a bad way, in a way where their eyes were opened as I didn’t fit the image they had in their mind. Frankly, I think this in itself is brilliant, being able to hold this space whilst being who I am and changing expectations is one of the reasons I fought so hard to get here. So thank you, thank you for helping me get here. In case you are fighting your own fight, and in case it helps, whatever happens next, the fight was worth it.

A world of unexpected opportunities

There are a few key ways that change has happened that I thought it would be worth talking about. Most of these are internal, but this first one is not. I do feel like I get offered more opportunities now. Now, I don’t know for definite that this is a consequence of me making professor, but the timing feels coincidental.

Within weeks of it being official, I received my first requests for commissioned articles from journals. I’ve never had these before, and it was so exciting I accepted the first three without realising that this wasn’t a one-off and that they’d all result in a heap of extra work. I’m glad I did. It’s been nice to spread the opportunity by picking awesome co-authors who haven’t had paper writing opportunities previously or where it benefits most, like my PhD students. The ones I’ve done have been brilliant learning and fun, but to be honest, are too much on top of an already full-on job. Writing them on top of this blog has been fairly challenging as I don’t get a lot of time at home as it is.

I also get a lot of invites to attend events and sit on committees, etc. These have always happened, but they happen much more frequently now. The same is also true with paper and grant reviews for organisations. The irony of some of this is that many of these opportunities are probably much more needed for those who are working to get established or still ticking the essential boxes rather than being wasted on me. I’m honoured, and I still get a lot out of them and feel I can contribute, but I’m not sure we should focus so much on defaulting to including the already embedded, maybe we should be opening those doors wider? That said, I’m frequently the only woman or scientist in those rooms, and so maybe these invites are just that? Still, I will try to pay it forward and spread the inclusion if I can by sending others and stepping back.

A certain kind of freedom

Most of the changes, as I said above, have been in how I feel and see myself. There is a freedom in feeling you’ve achieved something that felt out of reach. It validates the dream, and the sheer act of achieving one means that it inspires you to dream more and dream bigger. It also provides a level of freedom in terms of academic thought and process. I feel there is less justifying my research interests, removing some of the early hurdles you have to get over when starting any project.

There is also freedom to have a voice and express your opinions. Now, I’ve never been exactly meek about this. You read this blog after all. Being called a disrupter and boat rocker in the past is one of the reasons I didn’t think making professor would happen. Now I’m on the other side of the line, I feel even more empowered to stand tall as it would have been easier to not give it to me than it is to take it away. I think secretly everyone loves a little bit of disruption to the status quo.

A need to change my automatic yes

One of the things I still need to get better at and embrace more is the art of saying no. Interestingly, becoming a professor has really helped with this. All of the reasons why are touched on in the following sections, but this sits as an aspect within all of them. It’s changed my thinking about saying no as a negative thing, which I need to justify and flagelate myself over. Saying no to things I’ve come to realise can be an incredibly positive choice, both for myself and others. I’m embracing the power of no, and I would encourage you to do the same.

A need to change my mindset

One of the things that I wrote about in the original post when I made professor was about the fact that you have to demonstrate that you have achieved and ticked a fairly large number of boxes, from publications and grant funding to teaching and public engagement. In all honesty, some of these boxes will appeal to each person more than others. Many of them I love, and some of them are just key parts of the job. There are others however that I can now be more selective about.

I’ve always struggled with feeling like I have to cover all bases, as I didn’t have certainty about where I would end up. Career pathways in Healthcare Science were not very obvious when I started, and so you had to maintain and develop all aspects in case that’s where the job or opportunity would be. There is so much joy in knowing where that path has led, but also in having certainty about the fact that I have the power to now make informed choices about my next steps, as I know where I’ve ended up. Nothing in life is guaranteed, but being the master of your own destiny gives you the ability to choose steps that serve your purpose rather than trying to be everything to everyone. It provides freedom from the constant striving to please.

A redefinition of identity

Something that has been a challenge for me over the last few years has been linked to whether I’m still a scientist. This may sound odd, as of course, I still do a lot of scientific activities: writing papers, reviewing grants, sorting protocols etc, but I don’t DO science any more. I’m not in the lab wearing a lab coat processing specimens, I’m also not often there undertaking experiments. It’s taken me a while to come to terms with the fact that all of the activities that don’t take place in a lab are still part of what makes me a scientist. I find this one fascinating, as it took me ages to ‘feel’ like I was a scientist, and I went through a complete panic at the thought of no longer being considered one. The process of redefining my identity to include these new aspects has been been important, but not always straight forward.

A stronger sense of self

Titles shouldn’t change how you feel about yourself, they shouldn’t, your sense of self should not be dependent on labels. The thing is though, those labels sometimes make life easier. I’m still the same person I was before I became a consultant or a professor. I’ve not morphed overnight into someone different. It does however remove some of that constant need I have to prove myself and show to others I’m good enough, whatever that means. When I’m questioned and challenged, which of course does and should happen, it enables me to have slightly less self doubt. I’m not saying that questioning yourself is not a useful reflective tool, everything is good in moderation, but sometimes I can lean too far into that questioning. I feel like having gone through the external review process, by people who have never met me, and been assessed as reaching this level of knowledge and experience does give me a baseline level of confidence that I didn’t have before. This confidence translates itself into an improved sense of self assurance which is really helpful across my professional practice.

An increased sense of responsibility

Now, I’m not old and dead yet, but crossing this milestone has really made me think about what I want next, and what the next phase looks like. Over the last year I’ve come to realise that the crucial thing for me is about opening doors for others. I want others to be able to progress in a more defined way than I did, and to find some of the doors already ajar. They will face different obstacles, but I feel like that is how we move forward. I really feel that increased sense of responsibility to help those who will come after to me, and to pay forward the support that I have had along the way to others. Having ticked my boxes it’s time to help others tick theirs.

A new sense of direction

All of this has given me a sense of direction, one that involves not being afraid to be seen, and of embracing sticking my head above the parapet for the sake of change and for the sake of others. For the first time in my career I have a stable permanent post which means that I can afford to take risks in a way that I couldn’t have really contemplated before. I have privilege, that I recognise, own, and want to harness for the benefit of others.

I want to be in this position and still be me. I want to wave my geek flag, hold my head high as an obstinate head strong girl, and show that you don’t have to fit the mould in order to be successful. It’s one reason that this blog continues to be important to me. I want to show you can have self doubt and still progress. That you can make mistakes and learn from them, and that that’s OK. I want to stand tall and embrace being ‘Too Much’ to show you don’t have to compromise who you are to make things happen. That you can aspire and achieve more than you dreamed possible by being entirely, authentically you. I want to use the platform I’ve been given and hope that you will all join me along the way,

All opinions in this blog are my own

Me and My Bathroom: Being an adult scientist has way more to do with bathrooms than I’d expected

girlymicro General, Healthcare Science, Microbiology (Clinical) , , , , ,

Last week, I was lucky enough to be the Lord Mayor’s Colloquies (an academic conference or seminar) on water and sanitation, where the wonderful Dr Susanne Surman-Lee was speaking. It was an event sponsored by the Lord Mayor and supported by the Worshipful Company of Plumbers.

What has this got to do with bathrooms I hear you ask? Is it because it was on water and sanitation? Is it because these things impact healthcare design? Or are linked with infectious diseases? Is it because of the LAKANA Mali study? You’d like to think, but actually the trigger for this post was none of these things. It was triggered because I have a habit of hiding in bathrooms.

Hiding in bathrooms

I have posted before about networking, and that I’m not a natural in this regard. I have over time developed tools and approaches to aid me, but I still don’t love it. Now for a confession, and to be honest I genuinely don’t know if this is just a me thing as I haven’t really talked about it. Sometimes when I just can’t face networking, I hide in the bathroom of wherever the event is taking place so I don’t have to be in the room until just before the event start so I don’t even have to try. I’ve hidden in some pretty Class A bathrooms in my time, at the Houses of Parliament, at fancy hotels and most recently at Mansion House.

Some days, I just can’t face the sea of people and trying to come up with something interesting that I can bring to the conversation. It is especially bad when entering rooms when I just don’t know anyone or at least anyone well. Occasionally, my game face just fails me and so I find myself locked in a toilet cubicle negotiating with myself about what point I will leave in order to still look like I’m arriving in a timely fashion and with a window to grab some tea.

The negotiation is also about convincing myself to not a) hide at the back of the room, b) just call it quits and go home, and c) look confident and like I haven’t been hiding in a bathroom when I enter the room.

The negotiating doesn’t end here. Many years ago I made a deal with myself. I am allowed to hide in the bathroom, but only pre-event. Once I make it to the room I am not allowed to leave without speaking to at least one person I don’t know. It doesn’t have to be extensive, but it has to be a deliberate act of networking. One of the reasons I find this bit easier is because post event, at least, the one thing I have in common with the other attendees is that we’ve just engaged in the same activity. So that’s the rule, one person, one conversation before I’m allowed to leave. I don’t know if I’m the only one that has these types of rules, but now you all know if you see me hiding out in a bathroom, there is a reason why.

Developing a more than normal interest in bathrooms and water

You won’t just find me in bathrooms at events, however. Working in IPC has waaaaay more to do with bathrooms than I could ever have imagined before I came into post. From overflowing toilets to drain flies, we deal with it all. We often joke that we don’t know which members of the team are Mario and which are Luigi, as even when it isn’t an IPC issue, we still get all the plumbing calls.

As time has progressed, I’ve developed strong opinions on a wealth of topics that I never thought would hold meaning for me, from sink design to tap choice. I’ve also learnt a lot more about IPS panels (the panels at the back of your sink) and TMVs (thermostatic mixer valves) and how both can impact on other areas, such as my need to revalidate my specialist mechanically ventilated rooms.

One of the key things I’ve learnt, as well as being open to continuously learning, is that relationships in this area are key. This is an area where you need to be able to ‘phone a friend’. Friends aren’t just other people in IPC. You need to build relationships with engineers and designers, as well as those people in the lab who can talk you through your water-based results. You simply can’t do this one alone. There are too many factors. Collaboration is key, and the sooner we recognise we can’t do it alone, the more impactful we will be.

Promoted to a bathroom

I don’t know if there’s any meaning behind it, or whether it is just an amusing coincidence, but when I finally got to a point in my career where I was allowed my own office it turned out it was a converted toilet cubicle. My office still says on-call bathroom on the door, alongside one of my favourite things the team have ever given me, my Dame Elaine sign (they always joke it will happen one day). It is a rather compact space, but I love it, and at least they remembered to take the actual toilet out.

The irony of a blog post that starts with how much I hide in bathroom cubicles then discussing how my office is now one is not lost on me. Quite a lot of people don’t like it as a space, as it has no natural light or any ventilation. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been hiding in bathrooms for way longer than I had a bathroom office, but I find it a really comforting space. I like the lack of distractions. I like being able to spin my chair and reach for anything I need. I like being able to listen to peppy music whilst I work, as I hate working in silence, and not having to worry about bothering others. To me, it’s sanctuary.

Being considered a bathroom expert

One of the things I didn’t realise when I started out as a Healthcare Scientist is how organically interests grow and end up turning into something more. I started involving myself in all things built environment and IPC, because I wanted to understand it better. I wanted to learn more. As time went on that wanting to learn led me to develop more and more questions, as I found gaps in the literature and questions I couldn’t find the answers to. Maybe because I am a scientist, those questions led me to create studies and collaborate with others to gain knowledge that not only solved some things but also created more questions. I’ve also had the painful experience of making bad decisions based on a lack of evidence to enable me to make better ones. Therefore, I think this area (water and water safety) is one that is often overlooked and yet is critical to all healthcare and healthcare environments.

One of the reasons it’s so easy to make less than ideal judgements and decisions in this area is that IPC teams get so little training on this. Most will know something about Legionella pneumophila and Pseudomonas aeruginosa, but very few will know much about other key organisms, such as atypical mycobacteria or Elizabethkingae. What can feel like fairly low consequence decisions based on aesthetic appeal, such as which tap you prefer, can have significant consequences down the line which might not be seen for years. This can make it hard to tie up cause and effect in order to lead to improved learning without external support.

I never aspired to, or meant to be considered an expert in this area, but somehow I have accrued some level of knowledge by being in a Trust that is always building, and having stayed in one place for 20 years to see the cause and effect in real time. For the same reasons, I’ve also published a few papers linked to ways to improve water hygiene, although only a handful.

The main thing I’ve done is establish the Environment Network as a way to share learning and talk through challenges, and more recently, a course that sits alongside it to help support those who are interested and don’t want to make the same trial and error mistakes that I did. I am far from an expert in reality. There’s too much to learn, and the landscape alters too quickly. What I am is intellectually curious and determined to try to learn enough that every decision I make it better than the last one.

Bathroom based recognition

I started this post talking about a Worshipful Company of Plumbers sponsored event at Mansion House and my bathroom based adventures. I thought I should finish it by telling you why I was there and how this transpired in case any of you would be interested in joining me at future versions.

As I said, there don’t seem to be that many people who work clinically who are interested in water safety, although I’m pleased to say the number is increasing. There are, however, amazing women working in this area from the microbiology perspective, women like Dr Susanne Surman-Lee and Elise Maynard. The brilliant thing about these women is that they are truly interested in engaging with others and also raising up other women. I first met Susanne 17 years ago as a trainee when she was working at UKHSA, she won’t remember the event but she made a definite impression on me, and I’ve known Elise for over a decade. They are my ‘phone a friends’ when I need expert advice. They also lead on a bunch of different guideline writing groups in relation to water, and over the years have been kind enough to include me so that these groups, which are usually fairly heavily engineering led, include a clinical perspective.

Over the years, we have written a few BSI guidelines together, and the one that I think is most useful to those of you out there in IPC is this one, BS 8580-2:2022 Water quality. Risk assessments for Pseudomonas aeruginosa and other waterborne pathogens. It has a wonderful table at the back from Elise that contains all of the kinds of organisms you are aiming to control and if there are any specific areas to be considered, such as Klebsiella pneumoniae and sinks. We’re currently writing a new one to help people make sampling based decisions, and one on atypical mycobacteria should hopefully start later in the year. Susanne also organises the Royal Society of Public Health water webinar series, and I’ve been fortunate enough to deliver a couple.

All of which ended up with me being here:

Worshipful Company of Plumbers Livery Ceremony May 2023

In 2022, I was asked if I’d consider becoming a Liveryman for the Worshipful Company of Plumbers, linked to my work on water and women in leadership. It’s been a fascinating process, and at some point I might do a blog post on it. Needless to say, I agreed and in May 2023 I was clothed in the Livery. One of the great things about joining has been to meet so many people who are also really interested in how we manage water better and differently. There are also so many different perspectives. At the Mansion House event, my one conversion ended up being the leader of a sustainability nonprofit who was interested in using STEAM (science, technology, engineering, arts and mathematics) approaches to change how people think about water. This strikes a bell with me, as some of the challenges in the healthcare setting are around people thinking of sink areas being ‘clean’, whereas they are frequently highly loaded with bacteria and therefore potential risk.

Members of my team now jokingly refer to me as Her Plumbship, and all plumbing queries are light heartedly directed my way. The thing is, in this area, none of us can do it alone. I’m not a plumber (despite what my CV says). Nor am I an engineer, an environmental microbiologist or sustainability expert. If we are to make things better, make thing safer and deliver on key goals like those listed by the UN, we have to come together. We have to embrace the fact that there is no such thing as a stupid question, be prepared to stick our heads above the parapet and be uncomfortable in our lack of knowledge in order to work towards a better shared understanding.

All opinions in this blog are my own

My (possible) Mid-Life Crisis and Me 2023 Edition: Entering 2024 has left me questioning….have I peaked at 44?

girlymicro General, Healthcare Science, Leadership, Research/Academia, Writing , , ,

Heading into 2024 is a slightly odd event for me. Let me tell me why. 2023 ticked boxes for me I had never imagined existed, let alone had on my list. I attended the King’s Coronation. I got to fulfil a lifelong dream and go to Eurovision. I even managed to tick off the last remaining thing on my professional wish list and made professor.

Coming hard on the back of 2022 and 2021, I just don’t really have words for how privileged I feel to have had the experiences I’ve had. This is all amazing and mind-blowing. When you take a moment to breathe and reflect on all of this, however, it leaves me with one over whelming thought. What next?

I’m 44 years old. This year will be my 20th as a Healthcare Scientist, my 20th year working in the NHS. I have at least another 10 years of service in me. But what does that look like? I could never imagine where I am now, so how do I envision what’s to come? How do I therefore make it happen? I, like many others, have always kind of joked about people having a mid-life crisis, but for the first time ever, I can see how people get there. I’m super fortunate that I love my job, and I don’t want a change. At the same point, I also don’t want to stagnate. I want to keep on pushing. I want to keep getting better as a person and moving things forward for others.

Recently, though I have to admit, I am recognising how much I also need to get some rest and recognise how far I’ve come. I went from finishing my PhD to making professor in 8 years. Things have happened at pace. Part of my brain screams its time to sit back and smell the roses for a while and mentally catch up with all thats happened. The other part is saying that I need a plan to climb the next mountain, whatever that might be. I enter 2024 therefore in somewhat of a no man’s land, trying to work out who I want to be as I turn 45 and enter the next phase of my career. I don’t have much of this figured out yet, but I thought I would start by talking about the few things I do know.

It’s about giving back

For me, tunnel vision was very much a thing during the early stages of my career. I knew where I was going and what I wanted to achieve. In the last year or so I’ve very much had a change of perspective. I’m lucky enough to be offered a lot of opportunities, previously when I would have said yes or thrown my hat into the ring I’ve had a change of heart. When these opportunities come up, quite a lot of the time, I actively decide to not take them up, or to pass them on. It’s hard to gain experience and make connections when you are early in your career. I never really had that person in my career who would push me into the limelight, or pass things my way. I am aware, from seeing this happen with medical colleagues, quite what a difference it can make to someone’s career progression. I want to be the person who makes conscious decisions to do that now, and to pay things forward. I also want to still be open to mentorship and coaching opportunities where I can support others to take these steps. I feel like it’s not about me anymore, it’s about growing the people who will replace me, and do the job I’m doing even better, who will grow the change even further.

It’s about inspiring others

It’s so much harder to become something if you don’t know it exists. How do you follow a road map to a destination that you don’t have a location for. Everyone has their own pathway, but it’s so much harder if you can’t make informed choices about what your options could be. I struggled with this so much for a very long time. I was lucky, in that I could picture what I wanted, but as there was no one I could find in that space I just didn’t know how to get there. It must be even harder if you dont have that strong sense of where you want to be. Now, I don’t know that I’m particularly inspirational, but what I can be is visible and work to be even more so. Visible enough so that people feel they can reach out and ask questions, visible enough that I can show possibility for those thinking about future destinations.

I still remember the scientist who came into my primary school classroom. I have so much love for all the people, like Ruth Thomsen and others, who are living embodiments of the possibilities that are available for scientific careers. I want to continue to ring fence time so that I can live up to those examples. Although I took a while to realise it, I think that visibility is another reason why this blog is so important to me and why I hope that it will continue to grow and be useful to others. So, every day I want to consciously be trying to do better and inspire more.

It’s about opening doors

I have been blessed to have a career that both challenges me and fulfils me. I have also been fairly successful and managed to tick my personal tick boxes, becoming a Consultant Clinical Scientist, maintaining a clinical academic career, and making Professor. That’s great for me, but I think that if I don’t make it so that others can achieve those things or make the pathway easier, I will actually have fundamentally failed in my goals. Now I’ve finally managed to get over the line I’ve realised that the goal was never just about me. It was about making sure that anyone who had those aspirations had a pathway that they could follow, rather than wandering in the darkness and making it up as they went alone, like I did. So that’s the job, sharing my mistakes and learning so others don’t have to repeat them and can start a bit further along the pathway. 

It’s also my job to put a wedge in the door so that others don’t have to push anywhere near as hard to get it open as I did, and by using what level of influence and privilege I have to serve those who will follow. I am fortunate enough to have access to some resources that mean I can make practical contributions to this, not just work as a mentor or from an individual standpoint. I sit on national groups and run national meetings, which I really hope means that we can build networks and change things together. We are always stronger as a group. This is something that is really important to me, and a priority I want to continue to pursue.

It’s about trying new things

Now, when I say I’m passing on opportunities, it’s not that I don’t want to be challenged or to stagnate. I still want to take on new challenges, develop skills and take on new things. I’m just aware that there are experiences I’ve already had that could benefit others more. Some of the things I want to do are work adjacent, rather than purely work based skills. I’d like to get better at doing things like this, writing my blog, structuring it into something new, but also other things like science communication. I’d also like to be a better leader and communicator in general. I think, for me, it’s about moving from pure knowledge acquisition to pass exams etc, to skill/tool acquisition and application to help me implement change. I’m still passionate about my job and excited for the scope it gives me, I just want to gain the skills to do it better in the broadest possible sense.

It’s about knowing myself

All of this change has come from feeling like I’m growing into my own skin and learning to be unapologetically me. That doesn’t mean I’m a saint, I have so so many flaws, but it’s a growing acceptance that I’m a work in progress and that that is OK. Being open to that knowledge and that improvement is something I want to embrace. The more I get to know me, flaws and all, the more I can understand my drivers and responses. The more I do that the more I can reduce the noise, the more clarity I can have to embrace where I want to move towards. In my 20s and 30s I think I was scared to look and really see myself as I was clinging to ideas of perfection. Now in my 40s I just want to be the best authentic version of myself, and that’s the journey I’m on now.

It’s about finding time and balance

Part of that knowing myself is acknowledging that I use work as a way of feeling worthy and marking progression. There is so much more to me, and my sense of self worth cannot rely on numbers of papers published, or my professional reputation. Finding value in myself through work drives a fairly unhealthy relationship, where it’s difficult to step away and leads to working an excessive amount of hours. At one point prior to the pandemic I didn’t have a weekend off for 3 years, Weirdly I was OK with this, but now I have staff and students, I’m aware of how toxic an example this is to set. Also, as my health gets more challenging, I just can’t maintain it. I need rest and relaxation. I need to have periods where I completely step away, for both my physical and mental health. I want to learn to read books for fun again and take long bubble baths. To move away from my work being quite so core to my identity for the good of everybody, especially Mr Girlymicro.

It’s about allowing time for celebration and joy

The other part of allowing space to relax and enjoy life is finding time to celebrate. I’ve been very much ‘onto the next thing’ for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to really sit back and smell the roses. I’ve always been the same. I never managed to celebrate GCSE results, degree results etc. By the time I finished the exam I was so burnt out and broken all I could do was crawl into my bed to recover. Having posted last year about the importance of celebration, I want to try to learn a new healthier habit where I do celebrate things, both large and small.

Again, this is something having students and teams has taught me. I want them to embrace their successes and take time to really recognise what they have achieved. It’s not therefore just about taking time to recognise my own progress but really ensure I put a focus on celebrating the progress of others. It’s so easy to put it off and say we will do it another time, then nothing ever happens, it’s time to prioritise joy.

It’s about staying brave

Finally, I want to make sure that I stay open to failure. I don’t want to avoid trying things or embracing experiences just because I fear I will fail or what others will think of me. I want to stay brave, I want to be fierce. Being fortunate enough to have reached a position of some privilege I want to also ensure I own that position and continue to speak my truth, even if that comes with risk or discomfort, for the benefit of others. I want, when needed, to know that I will always stick my head above the parapet, be seen, be part of the conversation, and use what voice I have for the benefit of people other than myself.

I may not know where this next phase will lead me, but there is joy in the not knowing as well as fear. I genuinely think that as long as I keep to the list of the things that I do know as a cornerstone of my decision making, it will all work out. I want to strive to be kind, I want to know myself better, and I want to leave this world a better place than I found it. I hope whatever part of the journey you are on you are able to find your own signposts to the life you want to lead. Welcome to the mid-life, it’s not so scary as it seemed!

All opinions in this blog are my own

A DINK Household: Embracing a life with no kids, no guilt, only joy

girlymicro General , , , ,

I’ve got a few days off this week and so have finally been able to catch up with some friends and family. It’s also given me more time than normal to catch my breath and reflect a little. Most of my friends with kids however are instead running around from show to show, attending carol concerts, and trying to buy presents at midnight. This comparison has caused me to reflect on how glad I am to be part of a DINK household.

What on earth is a DINK? It’s a term I’ve heard thrown around for a while and I finally asked Mr Girlymicro what it stood for. Apparently, it stands for: double income, no kids. There’s also DINKY, which stands for double income, no kids yet.

I wrote a while ago about how it felt to be childless in my 40s and to discover I couldn’t have children. At that point, I had come to terms with it as a reality. Now, in the year my niece would have become a teenager, I have to say I’m more than OK. 13 years on I have such a different view on the whole situation. Not only am I OK, but I have come to embrace and enjoy all the opportunities that have come my way, many of which would not be available to me if I was looking after the next generation. This post is not to revel in the stress of those who have a different path, but to share that there can be joy for those of us who are on a different journey.

It’s not them versus us

Too often when I post about being childless on social media, whether defending my right to still leave work on time or stating that my life still has value, I get a response that sets me up as if it’s the childless vs the parents. My claiming that people who are not parents still have the right to work life balance does not take away from the rights of parents to have the same. One group having value does not detract from the other. I think it’s an interesting societal artefact that we are set up as opposites, when really we are nothing of the sort. It is not ‘Them vs Us’. It is about an appreciation of difference and recognising  the challenges and impacts on everyone’s lives of the decisions we make. I can want to have my life recognised as ‘of value’ without asking for someone else to have theirs diminished. 

My friends with children are a brilliant and an important part of my life. Being the fun aunt is important to me. My wonderful colleagues who have children absolute deserve to have allowances made so that they can be present and involved parents. I love hearing about the activities of their kids, their lives, and seeing the pictures. On the rare occasion I also need to leave on time to see my family, they are brilliant about ensuring it happens. I hope they feel I support them in the same way. This positioning of ‘Them vs Us’ isn’t real and if 2023 has taught me anything, it’s not to feed the trolls, so let’s see and value each other.

I have found my joy

I work hard. The days are long, and I’m often pretty tired and worn thin. I think there was a certain level of work for distraction for a while, but an awareness of using it to avoid processing has enabled me to face some things head on. As 2023 draws to a close, it’s turned out to have been a year of some amazing highs. 2022 in fact, also had some particularly rocking moments. There were some great professional wins brought about by all that work, which I’ve been forced to acknowledge would never have happened if I’d had to split my focus. I also had some truly wonderful times with Mr and mummy Girlymicro and some great friends, many of which would have been harder or more complicated if we’d had children. Sunsets, cocktails, and shopping would have just been more complicated. I experienced pure and unadulterated joy in just being in these moments. In the freedom, we have to just book a weekend away on a whim. Freedom that being a DINK household gives us that we would be unlikely to have otherwise. Joy that has become uncoloured by the ‘What Ifs’ that had previously removed some of the shine. Learning to live in and for these moments without looking back.

My life has value

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced in moving forward is the unwritten societal expectation. I don’t know whether it is unconscious evolutionary pressure or a societal construct, but there is a perception that somehow your life has less value as you are not contributing the future by having children. That’s not to say that it all comes from other people. A lot of this is something we put on ourselves. It is not helped by people feeling like it is OK to make you justify your decisions at every point. You can’t have children? Why don’t you adopt? Have you considered IVF? Have you researched trying via a surrogate? To which I have a tendency to want to scream back ‘Oh no, I never considered any of those things. I’ve never lied awake at night running through my options. It just never occurred to me to research and find out more. Thank you so much for changing my life by enlightening me that there are other options!’. All of these conversations, whilst driven from a place of support, just reinforce the fact that no kids = no value.

Let me tell you now what I tell myself every day. I have value. It may not be in the same way, but my life is valuable, my contributions are valuable, and although different, I am still contributing the future of humankind.  I feel like I contribute professionally, but also by supporting friends with their families. Recognising this contribution in myself means that I now feel empowered to put more boundaries around my life to protect it and to respect that value. I am trying to leave work on time. I’m trying to not work weekends. I’m trying to find time for contributions that mean something to me and which I believe matter, like this blog and being a visible woman in STEM. If I don’t do it, how can I role model that for others, and how else can we have conversations about how to change some of the perceptions about value and childlessness.

I refuse to feel guilty

I’m done apologising. I’m done apologising if I need to put my life first some times. Now, I’m not talking all the time. We all have to be team players. I am, however, done with throwing myself over the metaphorical ledge in some perverse form of self flagellation for something I had no control over. I am also done with being made to feel guilty in conversations where I talk about my life and my opportunities. Yes, I get to go on holiday to New York and shop because I’m not paying out a crazy amount of money in nursery fees. I’m not going to hide it because I get to do something someone else can’t. In the same way, I embrace people showing me pictures of their kids, even if I can’t have any. Their children are an important part of their lives, and I care enough to be interested. The way I feel about lunch at Serendipity III in New York and the fact it featured in one of my favourite movies with my sister has meaning for me. Things are meaningful for different people in different ways, thus is the joy and variety of life.

I’ve heard the phrase ‘Not everyone is cut out to be a parent’ said to me a few times in recent years from a variety of sources. This is almost always linked to conversations about activities in which I’ve embraced my childless existence. The first few times, it really stung, almost as if it was a way of saying that if I’d been able to have kids I would have been a bad mum. It made me pretty unhappy that it was OK to throw around that kind of judgement. The more I’ve heard it though, the more I now see it as a sign that I have genuinely grown to be comfortable with who I am now. My identity is now so OK with my childless state that I am also OK with talking about the pieces of motherhood I would have found challenging, about being open with who I am to others. Although, if you feel like saying these words, probably best to discover how they might be taken before you do. Six years ago, the response may not have been so open and embracing of the conversation.

Embracing the life we’re given

Becoming comfortable with who you are, whether you have just encorporated grief into that identity or not, has been the first step in giving myself permission. Permission to make choices that work for me, permission to be happy, permission to draw boundaries, and if needed permission to stay in the bath soaking for 3 hours with tea and an audiobook.

Embracing the life I lead, rather than some sort of societal expectation or perception of the life I should lead, has completely changed how I make choices. Being aware of my privilege in getting to make those choices makes me value them even more. In one week this year, I got to go to the King’s Coronation and Eurovision. My life is pretty epic, and none of that is defined by whether I have a child or not. It’s defined by the choices I make to lead me down wonderful and unexpected pathways and filling my life with love through the people I make the journey with.

Never looking back

I’m done with ‘What Ifs’. If you are looking back all the time you can’t truly look forward. I’ve embraced the road that led me here but I’m not defined by it. It’s just a part of who I am, not the whole. It is all too easy to be haunted by the past, especially if  the reality of that past was that we had no control over the events. This can lead to a sense of disempowerment and a feeling that we lack agency from that moment forward. At some point, to regain a sense of control, you have to have some hard conversations with yourself about what that control looks like. For me, it’s about waking up every day and consciously choosing to embrace my now. To see the future as filled with possibilities rather than filled with ghosts of a future that will never be. I no longer have a crick in my neck from looking back, and I’m OK with that.

Travelling the road less travelled

So join me, whether your circumstances are driven by choices out of your control or not, in embracing the road less travelled. Join me in committing to being braver in facing up to uncertainty, reality and in having difficult conversations with ourselves when needed in 2024. We don’t know where the doors we open by these acts of bravery will lead us, but I can almost guarantee it will be unexpected. Your journey doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s. It’s uniquely yours, and that is the joy of it!

All opinions in this blog are my own