Changing Directions at Midlife

You guys, I have a big announcement.

No, I’m not pregnant, and I’m not getting a divorce. But I did sort of quit my job. Let me explain. Those of you who know me “in real life” may know that since last May, I’ve gotten sick like a million times and have lost my voice SEVEN (for real) times in less than a year. If you didn’t know, my day job is teaching early childhood music classes for toddlers, preschoolers, and kindergarteners, and teaching voice lessons for older students. So losing your voice? Not so great in this field.

I started to panic every time I got a cold or was getting over it but still sounded like Two-Pack Tilly perched on a piano in a smoky jazz lounge. The husky Phoebe-singing-Smelly-Cat-while-sick vibe, while fun, translates poorly when Baby Beluga and Shaking Sillies are involved. So every time it happened, I was pulled between a deep guilt and pressure to go to work because kids were looking forward to it, it messed up our session schedules when I cancelled, and I felt like a flaky fraud, and a desire to stay home because it’s awful to sing when you don’t feel well and also I was starting to seriously worry that I was doing actual damage to my voice.

In fact, I honestly have never returned to a baseline of real vocal health—I am constantly clearing my throat and sound subpar by my own standards. So month after month, the cumulative effect of laryngitis and the stress of “Should I or shouldn’t I power through and go to work?” finally hit me. I gave in. The reality was impossible to ignore: I can’t do this anymore.

So I cancelled the rest of the spring for my private music classes, went on hiatus for one preschool, and continued one morning a week at a facility close to my house, with the understanding that my vocal health came first—if I couldn’t sing, I wasn’t going to come. I felt at peace with this. I planned to take the entire summer off of singing.

I didn’t feel conflicted, for the first time in. . . I couldn’t honestly remember. Despite my illness, I had grappled with ambivalence for many years. While I loved being Miss Stephanie and I felt a deep connection to my students and their caregivers, I also wanted more time to write, to facilitate HerStories writing workshops, to focus on producing Listen To Your Mother. I’d felt like I had one foot out the music class door for years.

Things changed in 2019 with our house flood—I couldn’t teach that summer as we were displaced for months—and then the anti-momentum continued with pandemic shutdown. For the past four years, I have let my music therapy practice slowly trickle until it finally became clear it was time to let it dry up. It was an ending. Which left room for a beginning I have been craving.

I was going to write a book. I have had a handful of book ideas in the past 14 years, but for multiple life reasons paired with the reality of juggling my patchwork career with raising little girls, it wasn’t time. Now, thanks to both my physical health and all the neon arrows of the universe, it IS time. And I am so damn excited. When I finally made the decision, I felt both a sense of jubilation and deep peace: I could let go of that conflicted feeling.

I’d like to periodically update you all on this experience, as I know a lot of my readers are fellow writers who may enjoy the behind the scenes glimpse at all the inevitable victories and disappointments, growing pains, lightbulb moments, steep learning curves, dark nights of the soul, and general mayhem that lies ahead. So please make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss any big announcements, breakdowns, or frantic pleas for help 😉 in the months (years??) to come.

You can learn a little more about WHAT it is that I’m writing and how it all came to be on the latest episode of my podcast, The Mother Plus Podcast. (While you’re at it, you should subscribe to that as well and follow us on Instagram @mother_plus_podcast!)

I broke the book news (like, the first time I said it aloud to anyone who wasn’t a family member, close friend, or therapist…) as a guest on the podcast If You Knew Me. You can listen to my 30-minute story here.

So, here I go! I’ll let you know what my process has looked like (spoiler alert: so, so many journals, index cards, highlighters, and Google drive files are involved) and keep you posted on the steps I’m taking. It’s going to be an adventure, and I hope you join me!

Cheers and xo,

Steph

P.S. Local CO pals—join us May 13th at the Boulder Theater for this year’s Listen To Your Mother Boulder show! Tickets on sale now.