Sometimes we want to speak in anonymity or shrouded in the veil of frankness with others that share our plight, that have walked our paths and carried a similar load. Sometimes we just want to be. Just be.

A little over twenty years ago I was on a fast-track to leadership. In a male-dominated world, this barely 5'1 forward-thinking Hispanic immigrant girl had it all planned out. College educated. Executive track. Independent. Non-conforming. Non-apologetic. Determined. I stood tall in my 5" stiletto heels and commanded presence when I walked into a room.  I had to. Pivot just an inch and it most likely will derail me. The odds were always stacked against me. I had no room for mistakes. 

And then I became a mother. 

My birthing journey was amazing. Until it wasn't, and my perfectly planned out life went belly up. Emergency c-section. Post-partum depression. Sleepless nights. Not bonding. An on and on. And then I had to go back to work. And face the world. A very non-empathetic world. A very demanding world. I struggled. Quietly. Loudly. I felt like motherhood was like a cult that no one spoke about in fear that no one would willingly participate. I struggled some more. And some more. My days felt like a tug of war between the diaper pail and the boardroom. If only I had a village to carry me through, to show me the way.  Yes, I had my family and friends, and they helped immensely.  But sometimes we want to speak in anonymity or shrouded in the veil of frankness with others that share our plight, that have walked our paths and carried a similar load. Sometimes we just want to be. Just be.

And so, I was. And then I finally pivoted. Not an inch. But a lot, a whole lot. And this time I did not derail. I finally pivoted because I sought help. When I came out on the other side, no longer gasping for air but in control of my days and my decisions, I promised myself I would always do things differently; I would shine light upon myself even when the brightness hurt.  I would be open to listening to others, even if I didn't know them yet, because even in strangers sometimes we find answers. And just like that I survived so many other moments in my life... cancer scares, losses, gains, disappointments, redemptions, imposter syndrome galore, injustice. You name it, I probably have been there.  

And eventually I realized I had a village of amazing people to carry me through life's moments. Mostly women, because we are nurturers, and healers in our own way. Many of them women physicians, who have become close friends, who have helped me overcome my own health battles and embrace all of whom I get to be. And in turn I have seen their own battle scars up close. Because being a woman carries a lot of weight, but being a woman physician is enormous, because they get to carry humanity on their shoulders.  

So, I am doing this for all of them. And for me.  For the person I was 20 years ago and the person I have become today.  Because I love her more than ever today, flaws, imperfections and all.

And in case you are wondering about that pivoting moment 20 years ago? I chose to step off the expectations rollercoaster and gladly jumped on the Me mobile and the ride has been exhilarating!  

I am on the best journey of my life. I am hoping I get the chance to come along for yours.