Growing up, I was exposed to the fruits of the feminist revolution, with women sporting huge shoulder pads and even larger spectacles, trying to break the glass ceiling. Anything was possible, as long as you were willing to be the "first whatever" and were ready to deal with the struggles associated with being a fish out of water, or a pioneer without a wang. Women make up half of the class in med schools, but there aren't a lot of mothers, and even fewer women who were mothers long before they hit send on that first application. But that's me. Am I pioneer? No, I'm just a minority. But I feel the pressure to succeed, simply because not a lot of mothers have gone where I am going.
Where am I going you ask? (I swear, I have a point.) Sure, other mothers have done it, and done it quite successfully. I'll bet they've become every type of doctor. But it seems that all the ones I've read about on blogs or articles have become internists, pediatricians, family practice docs, etc. I want to be a surgeon. An organic mechanic. And not just any surgeon, I want to be a specialist. A chosen path that will take upwards of 11 years to complete. If I live a long, healthy, Alzheimer's-free life, I will get a good 20 years out of my profession. Is that too short for the amount of time invested? I don't think so. I'll be 80 anyway, I might as well have enjoyed my last 20 years doing something I love, instead of being bored at home with my SunSetter retractable awning and watching Judge Judy.
Life never quite turns out how we dream it will (I never became that famous karaoke singing stewardess I wanted to be) but you can always go back down the path you envisioned.
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