And somewhere in that living, over a casual coffee conversation with a friend, she reflected something to me that I didn’t quite recognize. She spoke about me as someone who is growing. Someone willing to try new things. Someone clearer about her interests and confident in the path she’s pursuing.

I remember listening and thinking: Who is she describing?

Not because it wasn’t true but because from the inside, it still feels like I’m becoming her.

When I think back to the beginning of last year… personally, professionally, mentally, I don’t see a master plan. I don’t see certainty.

I see curiosity.
I see discomfort.
I see a woman trying.

Trying to re-enter the workforce in a way that felt aligned.
Trying to reclaim parts of herself that had been quietly waiting.
Trying to understand what “work” even meant anymore.

And what I’ve learned this past year is this:

The first step isn’t actually the dramatic one.

Publishing your first post.
Hosting your first workshop.
Sending that first email to a recruiter.
Rewriting your profile after a long pause.

They feel monumental because you become your own harshest critic. You question everything. You imagine worst-case scenarios. You wonder if you’re too late, too rusty, too far removed.

But once you take that step?

Nothing explodes.
Nothing collapses.
The world doesn’t dramatically shift.

And that’s the point.

The first step isn’t about fireworks. It’s about movement. It’s about creating the possibility of a next step, no matter how small.

And then another. And another.

I’m still the woman discovering her path back to work.

Still figuring out what it takes to walk this road. Not by seeing the whole map, but by taking the step in front of me.

There have been moments when I’ve felt clear. And some moments, I’ve felt completely at a crossroads.

I’ve tried things that didn’t move forward.
I’ve pursued connections that quietly fizzled out.
I’ve fallen into doubt more times than I can count.

But every fall has taught me how to get back up with a little more resilience. A little more self-trust. A little more clarity about what feels right and what doesn’t.

Perseverance and passion. Those are the muscles that have grown this year.

Not certainty.
Not a perfect plan.
But a willingness to “just keep swimming.” (Hi, Dory)

And yes, sometimes that has looked like throwing spaghetti on the wall.

But not wildly. Not carelessly.

Intentionally.

Some of that spaghetti stuck.

Parent Pocket Guide started as a small experiment. A trial. A way to curate local events and make planning weekends easier for families like mine.

I thought it would be a simple side project, and knowing my history, I assumed it will fizzle out soon. Instead, it became something else.

A commitment to discipline.
A weekly rhythm.
A responsibility to provide a thoughtful experience to readers.
And, selfishly, a way for me to stay connected and inspired by what’s happening around me.

It taught me consistency.
It sharpened my ability to curate.
It reminded me that I love creating experiences - even in written form.

And from that thread came Makers & Minis.

Not because I had some grand strategy.
Not because I was chasing a trend.
But because I was paying attention to what felt alive.

The energy around gathering.
The joy in watching kids create alongside their grown-ups.
The magic that happens when strangers leave feeling connected.

When I zoom out, I can see the pattern more clearly now.

Newsletters.
Workshops.
Craft sessions.
Conversations.

They all point to the same thing.

Community.
Connection.
Bringing people together with care.

That clarity around my values — community, connection, love — is exactly where I started a year ago.

I didn’t know what form it would take then. And honestly, I still don’t.

Empower the Gap hasn’t disappeared in these past few months.

It’s grown alongside me.

It’s become less about having polished answers and more about holding space for the messy middle — the experimentation, the pauses, the re-tries.

Because that’s what returning to work really looks like for so many of us.

It’s not a straight line.
It’s not one brave leap.
It’s a series of small, sometimes invisible steps.

It’s trying.
It’s reassessing.
It’s getting back up.

It’s realizing that even when something doesn’t turn into a long-term venture, it still taught you something about yourself.

And for the most part? This year has been fruitful.

Not financially. Not cleanly. But meaningfully.

Every experiment has clarified something.
Every conversation has revealed a value.
Every step has strengthened a muscle.

If you’re in a season of trying (maybe it looks like sending that first email, starting that small project, or publishing that first post) of starting before you feel ready, I hope you know this:

You’re not behind.

You’re becoming.

You might fall. You might change direction. You might throw more spaghetti than you planned.

But perseverance and passion? They compound.

They help you hold your head high when doubt creeps in.
They remind you that momentum is built quietly.
They teach you that the path reveals itself only as you walk it.

I’m still walking mine.

And I’m grateful you’re here walking yours, too.

Somewhere over the Pacific, my three-year-old turned to me and asked for the bag instead of the screen. That tiny moment was my validation - proof that thoughtful design works when you really understand your users. Back then, I was designing for my kids.

Now, I’m designing with them.

This Thanksgiving, we’re road-tripping to Los Angeles - seven hours in the car, two kids now 4 and 7, and a whole new set of needs. The old sticker books and finger puppets have evolved into magnetic play boxes, family word games, memory challenges, and playlists we curate together. I still pack activity bags for them, and while some toys require sharing, they now co-create the experience - choosing what they want to bring along and how they want to spend the drive.

It’s the same shift every thoughtful designer makes: moving from assumptions to collaboration, from designing at someone to designing with them.

When I think about it, this is design thinking in its purest form - a focus on the user journey. Who is your user? What do they need right now? How do you reduce friction, anticipate frustration, and still leave space for joy? My “users” might be 4 and 7 in this case, but the challenge isn’t that different from any project I’ve worked on or any venture I’m building - you’re still mapping needs, testing small systems, and iterating to make the experience smoother.

Motherhood has become my design lab. Every tantrum avoided, every idea tested, every system improved is a prototype of patience and empathy.

That same curiosity I practice in parenting spills over into my professional life too. That same design mindset - one of iteration, empathy, and experimentation - has shaped everything I’ve built since. I’ve grown Empower the Gap through consistent writing, real conversations, and small experiments… following what resonates and learning from what doesn’t. It’s been a journey of opening new doors and learning to close others - like pausing Oorvii to focus on Parent Pocket Guide. I’ve learned that iteration isn’t failure - it’s growth. Choosing to try and choosing to stop are both forms of progress.

As Tom Vanderbilt writes in Beginners, staying curious and willing to start again is what keeps us moving forward.

Because whether you’re designing a product, building a brand, or planning a family trip, the process is the same: research, prototype, iterate, learn, repeat.

So as I plan snacks and games for another long stretch of highway, I’m reminded that this - all of it - is the work. The listening, the adapting, the co-creating.

Parenting didn’t take me away from design thinking. It makes me live it, every single day.

I’ve had a long day, the kids want something entirely different from what I’d planned, and all I want is to sit under the evening sky, quiet my mind, maybe sip something warm (or cold), and not cook.

So, we do what every family does: order in. Because sometimes that’s the only sane option after a long day.

The churn of new restaurants on delivery apps keeps things interesting, but that’s also the problem. There’s too much choice, and no memory. We’ll try something, love it (or hate it), and three months later - when the same craving hits - we forget whether it was a hit or a flop.

One evening, we ordered Mediterranean from a place that looked vaguely familiar. I checked the order history; it showed we’d ordered before, so it must’ve been good.
Spoiler: it wasn’t.

Dinner arrived, and as we sat down, everyone remembered: Oh right, this was the one we didn’t like.
Cue hangry kids and mild marital eye-rolls.

That’s when I realized - this needed to be logged somewhere.
But a running Google Doc of “family food reviews”? Absolutely not.

The Spark That Turned Into a Build

It wasn’t a “save the world” kind of problem, but it was our problem.
We order often. We love trying new restaurants. We just needed a way to keep track of what worked (and what didn’t) for each family member.

My partner, ever the instigator, started saying after every new dish:
“Note it in your app. This is why we need that app.”

Eventually, I caved. Given that I’m in a phase of re-entering the workforce and upskilling, it felt like the perfect sandbox experiment.

But I had no idea where to start.

Curious and a little lost on where to begin, I turned to ChatGPT for help. After a few exchanges, I learned that for any product to move beyond the idea stage, it needs a document called a PRD (Product Requirement Document). I didn’t know what that was, so I asked my partner, an entrepreneur and product expert. We brainstormed the idea together, I mentioned it to a few friends (who nodded that it was nice-to-have, not must-have), and then finally opened a blank doc to start writing.

With some clarity on what was needed, I started typing out a prompt to help write a PRD:

“Idea: An app that helps you review & rate the restaurants that you have ordered from using food delivery apps. This is household-specific to take note of the various restaurants ordered from (whether takeout or delivery), reviewing it - whether you liked or didn’t like the food and to take note of a particular dish that might have been preferred over the other. The app also also gives the option to select which dish was like by which household member. The goal is to ensure that you have a directory (and history) of food ordered from restaurants and to prevent ordering from the same restaurant where you didn’t like the food. The value of this app is to make sure that every food experience is a great one and can be repeated. Same with a negative experience.

Use case: We are a family of 4 with kids 7 & 3.5. There are many days when we don’t want to cook and would rather order in. There are specific cuisines we like and are always open to exploring new cuisines as well as trying out new restaurants. We have had experiences where we want to eat a particular cuisine, and the food delivery app shows the top-reviewed & previously ordered from restaurants. But it was only after we ordered the meal again that we realized we didn’t like their food. This has happened with other restaurants where we remembered a dish but didn’t know which restaurant it was ordered from.

Product: I visualize this to be a mobile app that allows you to add your meal details - restaurant name, dishes ordered, and rating/review of it. integrates the food delivery apps to allow for me to review the dishes that I ordered & make a note of any dishes that were like or would not order again. Person’s preference would also help (For example: If my 7 year old liked the lamb roll from XYZ restaurant, I want to take note of that so I can order it again). This would be a good product to share amongst friends to say “Hey! Your friend just ordered from XYZ and really liked the food. Would you like to try as well?” I don’t know how I can monetize it but restaurant referrals within the app could be one way.

I want to write a Product Requirement Document for an idea that I have. Help me write a detailed one. Be my strategic coach and thought partner in creating this document. Ask me any clarifying questions to help create a crisp, thorough document that can then be shared to design and build the product.”

That was it - the start of my build.
Research and strategy are my comfort zones, and this felt like the natural bridge between idea and execution.

From Blank Page to PRD

Two hours and many clarifying questions later, I had my first PRD.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to hand off for prototyping or, in my case, vibe coding.

Building It Without Knowing How to Code

For anyone new to the term, vibe coding allows non-engineers to use natural language to describe what they want, and the AI builds the code.

After some research, I shortlisted Lovable, Bubble, and Base44.

Lovable was my partner’s pick - he’d used it to build a health app.
Bubble was interesting, but still in beta for mobile.
Base44 was the most user-friendly, so I went with it.

Naming and branding came next.
I used Namelix for ideas (because, of course, everything is taken) and Brandmark for a quick logo and color palette.

The designer in me wanted to perfect everything, but this project was also about learning to let go. The goal wasn’t beauty… it was shipping something real.

What Came Easily and What Didn’t

My background in design strategy made user flow thinking easy.
I’m the target user, after all, so I could imagine what onboarding and daily use would feel like.

But integrations? Completely new territory.
The Google Places API almost broke me.

Thankfully, Base44’s documentation helped me figure out how to autocomplete restaurant names in the form.
Small wins.

Where It’s At Now

The project is live as a basic MVP web app with 10 registrations but no active users yet, no feedback loops, and no scaling plans.
And that’s okay.

This was an experiment in:

• Learning how to build something from 0 → 1

• Understanding user onboarding and feedback loops

• Getting curious about conversion, engagement, and growth

And more than anything, it proved that curiosity is the best re-entry skill.

What’s Next

I’m not sure if I’ll keep building this one. It’s a nice-to-have, not a must-have.
But now that I’ve figured out how to go from PRD to MVP, I’m ready to explore other ideas - like building something for beginner gardeners (my next obsession).

For now, I’m just celebrating that I built something - without knowing how to code.

If there’s one piece of advice I’d give to anyone itching to “start something” but unsure how:
Take one non-zero step.

Before wrapping up, I found myself reflecting on how small steps add up… how progress doesn’t always have to be monumental to matter. I came across a Reddit post about Non-Zero Days, which did it for me.
It’s a philosophy that doing even one small thing toward your goal each day keeps momentum alive. Read it here.

Try.
Build.
Tinker.
Even if it’s imperfect. Even if it’s just an idea in a doc.
Because sometimes, one small action is enough to change everything.

What’s your small experiment, and how are your non-zero days going?

That post prompted me to write a little more than just a LinkedIn post - to share why I’m frustrated with the job search process, and why I’m choosing to take a different approach.

When the Applications Stop Feeling Human

Every job I’ve ever had came through people - through conversations, connections, and mutual trust. Someone believed I could deliver on what they needed, and often, on things beyond that. Those opportunities didn’t come from resumes or algorithms. They came from human connections.

So when I re-entered the job market after my career break, I did what everyone says you’re supposed to do: applied on company websites, requested internal referrals, and even hit “Easy Apply” on LinkedIn. Each time, I’d tweak my resume, rewrite my cover letter, and hope the system picked up the right keywords. And each time, I got the same automated email:

“Thank you for applying. Unfortunately, we’ve decided to move forward with another applicant.”

After a while, it stopped feeling like rejection and started feeling like invisibility.

A Quiet Rebellion

I’ve realized I hate boasting about myself on paper. I’d much rather show you what I can do than try to convince an algorithm that I’m worth a second look.

The past six months have been my quiet rebellion against the traditional job search. I didn’t announce it or plan it… I think it just started shifting the moment I launched Empower the Gap. Slowly, I found myself spending less time refreshing job boards and more time building, writing, and connecting. I was still applying here and there, but the frequency started dropping. And honestly, my mental health improved because of it.

There’s burnout that comes from overworking, and then there’s burnout that comes from under-recognition. That second kind is what finally broke me. So I stopped trying to fit into a system that wasn’t designed for the way I work or the life stage I’m in.

Building, Learning, Connecting

These days, I’m focused on learning and creating in ways that feel meaningful. I’ve been diving deep into AI tools and learning something I call vibe coding. I’m no expert, but I’m not a novice either. I’ve learned to troubleshoot, experiment, and search for my own answers instead of waiting for permission.

I also built an app called What We Ordered - a food review app that helps families remember which dishes they loved (and which to skip next time). It’s not the next big tech product, but it’s a start. When the first signups came in, I felt that little rush - the kind you get when something you imagined suddenly exists in the world. I’m working on a post to share my process and how I came up with the idea + what all I did to get it to where it is today.

And I’ve started networking differently. I’ve been back on Lunchclub again, meeting new people and brainstorming with people from all walks and stages of life. Through these meetings, I connected with another mom, and we’re now planning a brainstorming session to explore how we might collaborate. There’s no clarity if anything will come of it, but then again, you never know what might unfold. These conversations feel more alive, more real, than any application I’ve ever sent.

This new approach feels liberating. It’s empowering because I can see progress in what I’m doing. The rejection emails sting less when I can switch tabs and see something I’m building. It’s also scary because imposter syndrome loves to whisper: “What are you even doing?” or “Does any of this make sense as a career path?”

Some days, I worry I’m just throwing spaghetti at the wall - launching a clothing brand, starting this publication, doing self-initiated user research, curating a newsletter on family-friendly events. But you know what? It’s purposeful spaghetti. Each thing I create teaches me something new, introduces me to someone interesting, or makes me just a little braver. And that, to me, is progress.

Redefining Meaningful Work

I believe the future of work is built around personal autonomy, collaboration, and creative freedom. Meaningful work is the kind that draws you to your desk… the kind you can’t stop thinking about, the kind that keeps your mind curious even after the laptop closes. It’s less about climbing ladders and more about connecting dots. Less about job titles and more about contribution.

Maybe “work” isn’t one big thing anymore - maybe it’s a collection of small, meaningful projects that help us grow, learn, and connect.

So no, I haven’t stopped working. I’ve just stopped applying. Instead, I’m experimenting, learning, and creating - all with the hope that these steps will elevate my profile so recruiters notice or founders reach out, curious about what I might bring to the table for them. The journey feels uncertain but it also feels mine.

Curious to hear from you: How did you land the opportunity or project you’re in now? Was it through applying or through connecting? Or maybe, like me, you’re still somewhere in between.

👇 I’d love to hear your story.

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They feel like honest conversations. Shared excitement over a professional topic - like Service design or what it really takes to create a great user experience. There’s curiosity, creative back-and-forth, and often, a moment where you think:

“I could build something with this person.”

And even if the job doesn’t work out, the conversation stays with you. That feeling of being seen, heard, and valued... it lingers.

So What’s the Problem?

We’ve built a recruiting process that makes it difficult to reach that stage/level of conversation.

It’s a system that tries to match people using keyword filters, algorithmic scans, and rigid timelines. It claims to value qualities like adaptability and curiosity, but doesn’t really create space to see those things.

For someone returning after a career break or walking a non-linear path, it’s even harder. We end up reshaping our resumes to mirror job descriptions, hoping the wording is just right to get past the filter… just for the chance to be in the room.

That’s the part that needs to change.

Careers Aren’t Linear Anymore

Most of us won’t stay in one job for 20+ years. We pivot. We grow. We return.

Some of us pause to raise children, start businesses, explore new industries, or re-skill. And all of those experiences sharpen the very traits that hiring managers say they want:

• Resilience

• Adaptability

• Systems thinking

• Empathy

• Vision

So why is the hiring process still optimized for sameness?

What If We Flipped the Process?

Instead of filtering out candidates based on resume gaps, what if we started by inviting a real conversation?

Instead of making candidates decode vague job descriptions, what if hiring managers shared the real problems they’re trying to solve and invited fresh thinking?

Instead of seeing career breaks as liabilities, what if we saw them as signals of transformation?

That’s also why networking matters. Today, there are many platforms to meet other professionals and learn from them. From mentorship on ADP List to serendipitous conversations with someone like Boardy Boardman, I’ve found that being open to connection makes a difference.

My motto for the year (and likely beyond) has been: Don't say no! Either to a connection, a conversation, or a lead. You never know what might come out of it.

And just the other day, I commented on a post by an acquaintance on LinkedIn. The post discussed the current landscape for design leaders and the challenges they encounter. The conversation shifted toward systemic change, and one of the key conclusions that emerged was that referrals are prioritized over resumes. I get the logic: referred candidates often get more attention. But that can be a barrier for people who’ve been out of the workforce for a while. If we want real inclusion, we need systems that support those re-entering so they’re not stuck outside the circle of referrals, just trying to get a foot in the door.

Here’s What I Believe

I don’t have all the answers. But I do believe we need to create hiring systems that invite more humanity, not less. Especially for those of us with career gaps, career pivots, or careers shaped by caregiving.

The best ideas don’t always come from the most polished profiles.

Sometimes, they come from the person who’s had to reimagine everything and is still here, still curious, and still ready to build.

Thanks for reading. If you're navigating a return to work or rethinking your own hiring process, I’d love to hear from you.

What’s been your most memorable interview, and what made it feel different?

Whether it’s about the child - solids, naps, potty training or about ourselves - careers, workouts, or sleep, there’s no right or wrong. But there is judgment, especially if you choose to stay home. That judgment seeps into your confidence, making you wonder:

• Will I ever be able to go back to paid work?

• Can I still work at the same level I did before kids?

This needs to change.

As I’ve shared before, your time at home is not a detour - it’s a transformation. It’s a season of recalibration: becoming present to new values, developing emotional intelligence, learning to navigate chaos, and gaining a million invisible skills (recipe hacks - coming soon!).

That said, the well-meaning advice to “stay relevant” via webinars, networking, and passion projects doesn’t always fit into real life. With two kids, a dog, and a desire for even 10 minutes of peace (or doomscrolling), routine upskilling can easily fall off the list. And that’s okay.

You don’t need to do it all, all the time. You just need to start!

So what can you really do to “empower” the gap?

Here’s what I’ve done (and am still doing) to rebuild confidence and visibility after a 7-year break:

✩ Start with Conversations

Don’t wait for the perfect pitch. Just start talking.

"I want to get back to paid work. I used to be a ____. I’m interested in ____. I don’t know where to start - any advice?"

That honesty opens doors. I’ve been connected to some incredible people just by putting myself out there.

✩ Follow Your Curiosity

If a webinar, event, or course sparks something in you, try it. Don’t worry yet about how it fits; just follow what feels interesting. Some paths will evolve into skills. Others will just teach you something. Both are wins.

✩ Always Be Learning

A growth mindset matters more than polished resumes. I never expected to launch a clothing brand or run pop-ups. I did it anyway. Even if I wasn’t perfect, I showed up, learned, and adapted.

✩ Try AI. Yes, Really.

The world of AI is here and it can feel overwhelming. But I’ve leaned in. Here’s how:

• ChatGPT: Helping me brainstorm and write (yes, including this post).

• Gemini: Drafting Product Requirement Documents (PRDs).

• Lovable: Turning my product ideas into websites.

• Perplexity: Doing smarter research (hello, summer camp planning!).

No one’s asking you to become an AI expert. Just explore it in ways that serve you.

✩ Build Your Story Through Projects

I’m currently doing a user research project to build a case study. The topic? How recruiting systems overlook non-linear careers. It’s personal. It’s real. And it’s helping me rebuild my portfolio and connect with other women navigating the same terrain.

Know someone on a career break (2+ years) or just returned to work? Send them my way. I’d love to learn from their story. Here’s the link to book a time!

To close:

I have a 7-year gap on my resume but it’s not a gap in who I am.

In that time, I’ve raised humans, held space for growth (theirs and mine), and built skills no course could teach. I’ve launched a brand, explored AI tools, built a community, and redefined what work means to me.

And yet… hiring systems don’t account for that. They filter out resumes with “breaks.” They offer internships only to students. They overlook everything we gained in the so-called gap.

But we can change that.

By showing up. By building. By telling new stories.

The gap isn’t a weakness. It’s where our power grew quietly.

It’s time we bring it forward.

Meanwhile, Selena was equally confused. She had taken a pause when she had kids. While she knew that was the right decision, and even knew that she wanted to return to paid work, she was unsure of what she wanted that to look like and what steps to take.

Before motherhood, career decisions felt linear, or at least clear. They worked hard, set goals, and moved forward. Then they became mothers, and suddenly, everything felt more complicated.

What used to be obvious now comes with layers of questions like,

Do I still want this?

Can I handle this workload?

Will I regret stepping back?

Will I resent pushing ahead?

Why is this so hard?

Motherhood is a profound transformation, not just personally but professionally. There’s a name for this shift—matrescence—the developmental phase of becoming a mother. Just like adolescence, it changes how we see ourselves, our values, and what we need from our careers.

For some, matrescence brings clarity: This is what I want, and I’m ready to go for it. For others, it brings uncertainty: I used to love my job, so why does it feel different now? Neither response is wrong and both are signs of growth.

The challenge is that while our identities evolve, the working world often expects us to stay the same. The hustle culture, the unspoken pressure to “bounce back,” the expectation that we’ll want what we always wanted, can leave us feeling stuck between who we were and who we are becoming.

But instead of shying away from that, I encourage women to dive in and think about what might work for you in this season.

One of the biggest myths about working motherhood is that you have to choose between being an ambitious professional and a present parent. The truth is, ambition doesn’t disappear when you become a mother, it evolves. Your work and career gets to evolve along with it.

Your career doesn’t have to follow a rigid timeline. You can set goals that fit this season and adjust as you go. You can pursue leadership, change industries, take a break, start something new—whatever aligns with your reality right now.

Your ambition is still yours. Now you get to define it on your own terms. You can choose, and then choose again.

Lily & Selena worked with me to figure out what was right for THEM in this season. Lily made some changes at work, rolled with some changes that were made around her, and found a place where she could keep doing what she loved and grow her family. It wasn’t easy, but it was SO fulfilling. It was the right path for her. Selena slowly tuned into her internal voice, and reconnected with the things that brought her joy and meaning. She moved back into paid work in a new sector that brought growth and purpose. For both, motherhood opened them up to so much more in their career. It didn’t shrink their ambition- it heightened it.

​

So if you’re standing at a crossroads, unsure of your next move, remember:

• You don’t have to have it all figured out—just the next step.

• This decision isn’t permanent. It’s just the right choice for this phase of life.

• You are allowed to change your mind as your needs and desires evolve.

• You don’t have to prove your ambition—it is already within you.

​

Trust yourself. You are the expert on your own life. And whatever you choose, you can always choose again.​

Remember you are not alone. There are so many of us figuring out the messy middle of career and motherhood together. It’s okay to not have all the answers because we are all figuring this out as we go.

Warmly,
Anne

PS. If you’re in the season of asking “What now?” or “What’s next?” in your work life, while still holding all the pieces of motherhood—you are not alone.

I created Working Mothers Lifeline for women like you: high-capacity, thoughtful, exhausted women navigating the middle of their careers and caregiving journeys. Over 6 months, in a small, coached group, we unpack ambition, burnout, identity, and boundaries. We ask big questions and build more supportive answers together.

If you’re craving space to feel seen and supported as you figure out your next chapter, I’d love to have you.

Learn more or join here:

👉 drannewelsh.com/group-coaching-for-working-mothers

This video of a mom counting how often she hears her name in a single day? VALIDATING.

And while there’s joy, there’s also the juggle.

This summer has been extra special. My parents were here for six weeks, and it was the kind of precious, slow time I deeply cherish, especially because our trips to India are always too short and too packed. Watching my girls soak up every minute with their grandparents filled my cup.

But I also felt pulled.

• Spending time with them or job hunting?

• Showing them around or writing?

• Relieving them of house responsibilities or using the time to “be productive”?

My mom, being her superhuman self, ran the house.
My dad? On a mission to declutter like Marie Kondo meets Home Depot.
And me? Feeling grateful… and guilty.

But before I spiral about what I didn’t do; here’s what I did manage:

1. I experimented with an AI-powered job tool.

I came across this post on LinkedIn and got intrigued.

An AI recruiter that curates jobs for you after a short 10-minute chat about your needs & aspirations? I had to give it a try.

It’s still early-stage, with plenty of kinks to iron out, but the experience reminded me that the future of job searching might be a lot more personalized (and AI-assisted) than we think.

2. I kept networking, even if slower than before.

It’s not spring-level pace, but I’m still building. I recently connected with Dr. Anne Welsh, a career strategist who’s generously offered her coaching program to Empower the Gap subscribers:

Led by Dr. Anne welsh, a psychologist, executive coach and mother of 4, Working Mothers Lifeline is a 6 month, small-group coaching program. It was created for women navigating the messy middle of working motherhood: career questions, caregiving demands, and the deep desire to live with more clarity and less guilt.

In it, members get to talk about ambition, identity, burnout, and boundaries. It’s honest, expert-guided, and deeply affirming. If you’re craving a space to feel seen and supported as you sort out what’s next, this is for you.

Learn more or join here: https://www.drannewelsh.com/group-coaching-for-working-mothers

She’s also writing a guest post that I can’t wait to share. These small, genuine connections keep reminding me: real career growth is still built on real relationships.

3. I finished a book and rediscovered my love for fiction.

Yes, I finally read The Power Pause, but what really got me back into reading was fiction. I picked up a few novels from our local library and I’ve devoured them.

Not for productivity. Just for pleasure. Just for me. Escaping into someone else’s story has a strange way of grounding me in my own.

4. I signed up for an AI course.

I finally enrolled in Coursera’s Google Prompting Essentials. It’s not all brand-new, but it’s helping sharpen & refine my skills. Sure, it’s taking longer than I thought (hello, summer chaos), but every new skill - especially in AI - is a deposit into future-me’s toolbox.

5. I’m learning how to write a PRD.

Product Requirement Document. Sounds technical and intimidating, right? But I have a few ideas simmering, and I want to see if they’re worth building. The advice I got was to write a PRD of those ideas. Learning how to frame and structure ideas like a product manager feels like an important part of my next chapter - even if no one’s asking for it yet.

6. I continue writing. In scraps and stolen moments.

I haven’t had any long, dreamy blocks of uninterrupted time. But I have had moments.

Selective bursts in my Notes app. Half-written blog ideas. Thoughts typed up while bribing the kids with cake and spritzers at a coffee shop.

Sometimes, the best ideas show up when we’re not trying so hard.

The Truth About Summer (And Moms Like Us)

Here’s the thing about summer with kids and career dreams: it’s messy, it’s complicated, and it’s beautifully human.

We’re trying to be everything to everyone - present parents, ambitious professionals, supportive daughters, and individual women with our own goals.

And you know what? That’s not just okay. It’s actually pretty remarkable.

So here’s my two cents on how to not just survive summer but actually grow through it:

• Focus on what matters that day.

• Let go of guilt.

• Celebrate the small wins.

Some days, that’s being fully present with your kids.
Other days, it’s taking one bold step toward your professional self.
Most days, it’s a messy blend of both.

Give yourself permission to be imperfect.
Give yourself credit for showing up.

And remember… every small step, whether it's learning a new skill, making a connection, or simply surviving snack request #47 is laying the foundation for your future.

You’re not just surviving this summer. You’re evolving.

This season of challenge is also a season of growth for you and your family. Embrace the chaos. Celebrate the micro-milestones. And trust that you’re exactly where you need to be.

The best part? September’s coming.
You’ll have stories to tell. Skills you’ve gained.
And a deeper knowing of what you’re capable of.

Until then… give yourself grace.
Take it one day at a time.

And never forget:
Being a mom with big dreams isn’t a contradiction - it’s a superpower. 💪🏽

P.S. I’m Doing a Research Project - Want to Help?

As part of my return to full-time work (in user research & product/design strategy), I’m diving into a real-world user research project focused on the re-entry journeys of mothers - what helps, what hurts, and what still feels invisible in the process.

If you (or someone you know!) is a mom who’s either currently navigating a return to work or has re-entered the workforce after a career break of 1+ years, I’d love to chat.
Your story could help shape tools, resources, and narratives that make this path easier and more empowering for others.

👉🏽 Feel free to share this Calendly link with anyone who fits the bill. I’d be so grateful!

I never had to think twice about who would pick me up from school if my mother was busy or who would step in when things went awry for some reason. The village was always there. This became especially clear during one of the hardest chapters of our lives, when my younger brother became disabled at the age of one. While my parents traveled to Europe and the U.S. in search of answers, it was the village that took care of me. When we eventually lost him, that same village wrapped around us in grief, in food, in presence.

That's when I learned community isn't just about celebration - it's what holds you when everything else is falling apart. It’s the 2:00 am calls made without hesitation, knowing they’ll show up. And that became my foundation, a part of my very being.

Finding Myself Without My Village

So when I moved to San Francisco as a newlywed, everything about my environment changed. But the longing for connection remained. I was in a new country, away from everything familiar. The village I had grown up around was now millions of miles away.

There's no guidebook for friendship as an adult immigrant woman - no blueprint for creating the support structure that once felt as natural as breathing. I struggled. I missed the easy access to belonging.

Grad school gave me a glimpse of what community could look like. I pursued an MBA in Design Strategy at California College of the Arts, San Francisco and connected with peers during our monthly modules. But between classes and adjusting to married life, there wasn't enough breathing room for a true connection to take root and maintain itself. After graduation, I landed a role as a Service Designer at a consulting firm through a Slack group - a rare moment where a digital community translated into a tangible opportunity.

I met some amazing people and worked on some great projects. But it wasn't until I became a mother that the real need for a village hit me.

Motherhood Redefined My Identity and My Need for Connection

Having my first child in a country where "villages" aren't built into daily life felt isolating and disorienting. I was flooded with love yet buried under the weight of logistics, struggling with my own physical and mental well-being. Childcare is expensive. Family is thousands of miles away. And the systems here? They make it easier to disappear into motherhood than to feel included in it.

I craved support and guidance. I needed my tribe… so I set out to create it.

I joined mom groups, downloaded countless mom-dating apps, volunteered at my daughter's school, became a room parent, started conversations at the playground, and joined baby gym & music classes. Every opportunity with the potential to meet people and make friends, I took. And slowly, things started to emerge. I met some amazing women - some for a one-time walk, others enough times that we eventually met each other's kids and families. School friends moved closer to us and introduced us to other friends they knew. Some have become acquaintances, while a select few - let's say one or two - are now part of the village I had been seeking.

Beyond individual connections, I helped start and organize our annual neighborhood block party. It's been two years now, and it gets bigger and better each time. This became a great way to get to know our neighbors and for our kids to meet friends they'll grow up with. There might not be an "I'm your best friend" connection, but there's a belonging… of location, of kids' schools, of neighborhood activities that has been created among us. It helps because we no longer hesitate to watch out for each other, our families, and our homes.

I took the Indian concept of a kitty party and incorporated it among friends. I reached out to about seven or eight couples who knew us but didn't know each other and asked them to commit to year-long social gatherings. Each participating family takes a turn hosting dinner at their house on the last Saturday of the month, and everyone gets together. The first couple of gatherings were surface-level as people got to know each other and comfort levels developed. But after that, we became a tight-knit group of friends.

And of course, I continue to be involved in both my daughters’ schools in whatever capacity I can. Slowly, that feeling of the village has started to take root again. I have a community to lean on and a select few of the closest friends who will get the 2:00 am call, if ever needed. But this community is something I’ve had to grow myself. And I don’t take it for granted. Just as a plant flourishes when cared for, your community only flourishes and strengthens depending on the time and effort you put in. People respond to you if you respond to them. The needs go both ways, and I’m highly aware of that.

From Village to Platform

When the time came to start looking for full-time work again, it is this same village I have been leaning on. Old acquaintances, that friend I made at a summer camp for adults, the mom groups I’ve joined, my friends, and even my neighbors. And the support I have found has come in surprising places.

Sharing my story, being open about my journey, and my struggles sparked something. That’s when I realized that the need to belong, the longing for community - It wasn't just me. Other mothers are in the same boat, quietly navigating the messy middle of identity, belonging, work, and worth. The awareness didn’t come while sitting around, though. I am reaching out with openness and vulnerability. Shameless in admitting that I’m seeking paid work, because my need for both financial independence and professional community is dire. That realization also became the seed for what has eventually become Empower the Gap - a platform for mothers navigating similar journeys.

Community is no longer a luxury. It's non-negotiable. It's the infrastructure that holds us up when everything else feels uncertain. For immigrants. For mothers. For anyone navigating life's biggest transitions.

My biggest takeaway as I reflect on this journey is that community isn't just something I need… It's where I come alive. It's the value I most want to model for my daughters: that belonging isn't a luxury you wait for, but something you actively create, whether in your neighborhood, your workplace, or wherever life takes you.

If You've Been Looking for a Village…

You're not alone.

Whether you're just starting motherhood or trying to re-enter the workforce after a career break, this is your reminder that connection is a form of survival. And the best way to find your people is to begin building what you wish existed.

You don't have to do it all alone. You were never meant to.

Then I typed a single sentence into ChatGPT. That moment cracked something open.

The Prompt That Changed Everything

This was the first prompt I wrote that started the journey of updating my professional identity:

"I’ve been a full-time parent since June 2018, raising my two daughters. I’m now looking to re-enter the workforce full-time and want help figuring out how to frame my experience. I’ve done some contract projects and launched an apparel brand during this time, but I don’t know how to include that in my resume or talk about it confidently."

I wasn’t sure what to expect. I don’t even remember the exact response. But I do remember how it made me feel. In that instant, any doubts or hesitations I had started disappearing.

And thus began my friendship with an unexpected brainstorm buddy.

From Super Skeptic to Super Fan

I rolled my eyes at the AI boom. Another tech wave. Another thing to learn. Another thing that made me feel “too old for this stuff.”

But after reading a few articles, especially ones about how AI could help rethink work and how to write effective prompts, I got curious. Really curious.

This curiosity led me to rebuild my resume and find my voice around what matters to me. And piece by piece - or rather prompt by prompt - I started to put my professional identity back together.

What Changed

ChatGPT didn’t write my resume for me. It asked me a lot of questions - I made sure of that - and it held up a mirror. One prompt that truly shifted my thinking was: “Help me translate the skills used during my parenting break into professional language for my resume.” It reminded me that:

• Being a full-time parent wasn’t a pause. It was growth.

• Initiated, planned, and set up a pandemic pod for my daughter's Montessori class. That’s leadership.

• Launching Oorvii? Entrepreneurship.

• Starting Empower the Gap? Community design meets personal purpose.

With every prompt I typed, I could see a little more of myself again. I got introduced to parts of me I didn’t realize I had developed. And more importantly, I could see how to describe them to the world.

For the Mom Who’s Afraid to Start

Don’t start with your resume. Start with something simple.

One of my earliest prompts? (and an easy on-ramp for anyone feeling hesitant?)

"I'm going for an overnight camping trip with my family - 2 adults, 2 toddlers (5 & 2). The food is taken care of, but we have to pack our own gear and clothes. Can you make me a list?"

And just like that, I was in.

If you're already using AI, I suggest asking: What don’t I know? What’s my next step?

I just signed up for a basic prompting course to improve my own game. YouTube has great resources too.

What I Hope This Post Sparks

I hope this helps you start - even if it's with something random. Even if you don’t know what you want yet. Even if you’re scared, it’s “too late.”

Because here’s what I’ve found:

• You’re not starting from scratch. You’re starting from experience.

• Your gap isn’t a weakness. It’s a phase of growth.

• AI isn’t the answer. But it’s a powerful tool to help you find yours.

🔓 Want to Go Deeper?

Paid subscribers get instant access to:

✅ My AI-powered tool stack
📄 What actually got added to my resume
🎁 My 10 go-to prompts to rebuild your resume - including reflective questions, summary builders, and practical rewording tips

👇 Hit “Subscribe” to unlock it all.

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Who am I now?
How do I even begin to return to work?
How do I find work that aligns with my purpose and passion?
Can I still do something meaningful?

These aren’t just logistical questions. They’re emotional. Layered. Deeply personal.

That’s why I’m so excited to announce our first live, virtual event for Empower the Gap featuring the incredible Vanessa Loder: speaker, women’s leadership expert, and author of The Soul Solution.

Vanessa has been exactly where many of us are. She walked away from a high-powered career in finance to reevaluate what really mattered. What did she find? Clarity. Calm. Confidence. And a new path that honors her whole self, not just her resume.

Now, she helps other women do the same. And this Thursday, she’s joining us for an intimate, interactive conversation.

🗓️ Event: Finding Clarity + Confidence with Vanessa Loder
📅 Date: Thursday, May 8
🕛 Time: 12:00 – 1:00 PM PST
🔗 RSVP: Click here to register

🎁 The first 15 people to register will receive a free copy of Vanessa’s book, “The Soul Solution.”

This isn’t a webinar. It’s a space to pause, reflect, and reconnect with a wise guide and a community of women walking a similar path.

Bring your questions. Bring your doubts. Bring your whole self.
I can’t wait to see you there. 💜

Warmly,
Akriti

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But it wasn’t a vacation.
It was logistics.
It was showing up… as a wife, mom, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, and friend.

It was beautiful and chaotic.
But somewhere in the middle of it all, I realized something: I had no space for myself.

I packed two books — Neha Ruch’s Power Pause and Simon Squibb’s Do You Have a Dream? — both of which had been calling out to me for weeks.
I read two pages.
Not two chapters.
Two pages.

At the time, I brushed it off. It was a busy trip, I told myself.
There was no time and too much to do.

But once we got back - jetlagged, the kids home for spring break, me falling sick — it hit harder:

I didn’t just lose momentum.
I lost a part of myself.
I parked my needs behind everyone else’s.

When I’m planning household operations, organizing events, or managing the chaos of daily life, I feel on it. Capable.
Even when I’m talking about user research and service design - ask me about the 3-day healthcare workshop I ran to define vision, goals, and timelines, and I’ll light up.

But when someone asks me:

“What do you enjoy doing?”
“What are your dreams right now?”

…I pause.
I don’t have an answer.
And that feels scary.

Just yesterday, sitting on the bleachers at gymnastics class, a mom friend and I were talking about this exact thing.

We want to be there, watching our girls wave at us from the mat, proudly showing off their new skills.
These are the moments we don’t want to miss.
This is the good stuff.

And yet, there’s guilt.
Maybe we’re wasting time.
Maybe we’re not doing enough.
Things fall off the plate no matter what stage we’re in.

There’s this pressure - societal, internal, invisible but constant - to always be doing more.
For our families.
For ourselves.
For the version of us we used to be… or the one we should’ve become by now.

It’s like living with one eye on the moment and one eye on the clock.

Where does that pressure even come from?
Why is being present not enough?

As if the identity gods were listening, I happened to tune into Mel Robbins’ recent podcast on feeling behind in life — and wow, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She talked about the unrealistic timelines we carry — the “social clocks” that whisper we’re failing if we’re not “there” by a certain age.

I felt so seen.
So relieved.

Because I’ve been in that mental trap lately.
And it’s exhausting.
And it’s not true.

Here’s the reality:

✅ 43% of highly qualified women with children leave the workforce at some point in their careers.
✅ Of those who want to return, more than half say they struggle to get hired due to the so-called “career gap.”
✅ A study in the American Journal of Sociology found that mothers were 47% less likely to receive callbacks than non-mothers with identical resumes.

And yet - if you zoom in - the story is completely different.

Motherhood is project management.
It’s emotional regulation, negotiation, logistics, crisis response, creative direction, and leadership - on loop, 24/7.
It’s just not labeled that way.

So I’m learning (again) to give myself grace.
To understand that my “enough” doesn’t have to look like someone else’s.

To know that it’s not about choosing between presence or ambition — it’s about figuring out how to hold both.
Even if it’s clumsy.
Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.

Right now, I’m just trying to remember who I am underneath all the roles I play.

It’s uncomfortable.
But it feels like a start.

Have you felt this too?

That moment when someone asks what you want, and you realize you’re not even sure anymore?
That weird, weighty silence?

If you’ve felt it too, I’d love to hear from you.
Maybe we don’t need answers just yet - maybe we just need to name it, together.

Thank you for being here and holding space for this reflection.
— Akriti

P.S. If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story. Hit reply, leave a comment, or just let it sit with you for now. Either way, you’re not alone.

That moment stuck with me - not because it was dramatic, but because it was so ordinary. And yet, so much was happening beneath the surface:
🌱 Identity shifts - time to take on teacher mode,
🏆 Quiet wins - It was the perfect snack on the first try,
🤔 Big questions - Is this enough? Can I do better?,
✨ And even bigger dreams - What if I had a career I loved.. that fit around this life?

That’s exactly why I started Empower the Gap - to hold space for these stories. The ones that don’t always make it onto polished profiles or job applications, but define so much of who we are and who we’re becoming.

And now, I’m bringing those stories to Instagram - A space for quick reflections, reminders and connection.

Why Instagram? Because sometimes we just need a quote that hits home, a post that reminds us we’re not alone, or a moment of reflection in between diaper changes, sleep snuggles, job applications, or late-night self-doubt.

Here’s one I’ve been holding close:

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.”
— Maya Angelou

That’s the energy I’m showing up with - messy, honest, resilient, and ready to grow.

If that sounds like something you need in your feed, come follow along:
@empowerthegap

And no, I’m not leaving this space. Writing is where it all began, and I have another post in the works that I can’t wait to share with you. There’s so much more to say, and I’m just getting started!

Thanks for being here,
Akriti

For years, I struggled with my response.

• I’m not working right now.

• I’m a stay-at-home mom.

• I run operations for my household.

• What do I NOT do?

• I’m just a mom.

Each version felt inadequate as if I needed external validation for my time spent outside of the traditional workforce. And in every conversation, there was that inevitable pause - the awkward silence before someone reassured me, Of course, that’s a job too!

But here’s the thing: I never needed someone else to validate my role. I needed to validate it for myself.

Momployment Is a Choice - Not a Privilege

Before having kids, I was a Service Designer. My days were filled with research, facilitating workshops, and helping businesses identify gaps in their customer experience. I was in my element, delivering impactful work right up until I went on maternity leave.

And then, everything changed.

Holding my newborn daughter in my arms, I realized that no amount of preparation could have readied me for the all-consuming reality of motherhood. I was smitten, overwhelmed, exhausted, and completely hooked. When my six-month maternity leave ended, my daughter was reaching new milestones daily, and I wasn’t ready to miss them. So, despite all the uncertainties - our immigration status, finances, and the weight of being a one-income household - I chose to stay home.

And let’s be clear: It was a choice, not a privilege.

The world talks about stay-at-home motherhood as if it’s a luxury, a break, or a secondary role. But there was nothing luxurious about running an entire household with no support system. There was no paid leave, no structured work hours, and no performance bonuses for successfully teaching a tiny human how to eat, sleep, or navigate the world.

Yet, somehow, society still doesn’t see this as “real work.”

Motherhood Is the Ultimate Leadership Training

When we talk about employment, we talk about skills - problem-solving, time management, conflict resolution, crisis response, strategic planning.

Tell me, what job requires these skills more than being a mother?

• Project management? Try organizing a household, tracking medical appointments, scheduling classes, planning meals, and keeping up with developmental milestones.

• Crisis management? Handling an emotional meltdown while making dinner and taking a work call.

• User research? Every mom instinctively studies her child’s needs, behaviors, and preferences to create a system that works.

• Event planning? Every birthday, playdate, and school fundraiser is proof of operational excellence.

I helped businesses before I had kids, but motherhood turned me into a CEO of a household, a logistics expert, and an emotional intelligence coach all at once.

And yet, if I were to put all of this on a resume, it would be reduced to a “career gap.”

The Need for Recognition (and Compensation?)

I appreciate that recent studies have started to quantify the economic value of a stay-at-home mom’s work. Some estimate that if moms were paid for all the roles they take on - teacher, chef, financial planner, chauffeur, therapist - it would amount to a six-figure salary.

Great. We now have data. But when will society start recognizing it?

We give unemployment benefits to those in between jobs.
We give sabbaticals to employees taking time for personal growth.
But what about moms who take a full-time, unpaid role for years?

What if momployment came with its own form of financial independence - some kind of stipend, support, or tax credit? Maybe then, fewer women would feel the pressure of choosing between caregiving and career survival.

I’m a Mom AND…

After six years at home, I’ve realized I don’t need to choose between motherhood and ambition.

It’s not “either-or”; it’s “this AND that.”

💡 I’m a mom AND an entrepreneur.
💡 I’m a mom AND a creative.
💡 I’m a mom AND a business strategist.
💡 I’m a mom AND a builder of communities.

I spent years thinking I had lost my professional identity, but in reality, I had been shaping a new one all along.

Let’s Change the Narrative Together.

This conversation is bigger than just me. Millions of moms wonder:
> How do I re-enter the workforce without losing myself?
> How do I articulate the value of my experiences?
> How do I reclaim my financial independence while still being present for my family?

That’s why I created Empower the Gap - a movement dedicated to normalizing career gaps and turning them into growth opportunities. I’m on a journey to not only change this narrative, but collaborate & create a foundation where career gaps are viewed as a period of growth, transition & transformation.

If this resonates with you:
✔️ Hit the 💜 button to support this message.
✔️ Drop a comment: What’s one skill you’ve gained as a mom that the workplace should recognize?
✔️ Share this with another mom who needs to hear it.

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👥 Join our community: https://chat.whatsapp.com/LMpDgWo4OdN0qChtgI09xh

It’s time to stop seeing career breaks as setbacks and start seeing them as launchpads. Let’s do this together! 💪

I take a deep breath and reach into my bag - the one I packed meticulously, filled with carefully curated activities, surprises, and satiating snacks. This was no longer just an experiment; it was a well-tested strategy that had evolved over years. Years of traveling with kids - whether by air or road - taught me that preparation is everything. Through countless flights and enough road trips, I refined a system that kept my children engaged and made long-haul travel manageable. I started making activity bags when my firstborn was two years old, and now, traveling with a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old, it has become an essential part of my travel planning. This is my research in action, refined through trial, insights, and iteration.

For example, I initially packed large coloring books, only to realize they were cumbersome in tight spaces. Switching to smaller activity sheets and sticker books significantly improved usability and engagement. Similarly, I replaced small loose crayons with twistable colored pencils & paint-with-water activity books to avoid mid-flight messes. These iterative adjustments made traveling solo with my kids much smoother and more predictable.

Traveling with Kids = User Research & Iteration in Action

Any travel requires research and planning, but traveling with young kids? That’s a design challenge in itself.

• When they were babies, my strategy revolved around bassinets, nap schedules, and a stash of milk bottles.

• As toddlers, the goal shifted to engagement and movement. At this stage, my idea for the activity bag took shape. Engagement meant extensive pre-work—researching, identifying, and planning a variety of plane-ready, age-appropriate activities. The goal was to ensure my toddler stayed entertained at regular intervals during long flights, minimizing disruptions and fostering independent play. Over time, I refined my approach, learning what worked best through trial and experience.

• Now, as a solo parent traveling with a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old, it’s about sustaining entertainment and minimizing meltdowns—without relying on screens for the entire journey.

As a Service Designer and User Researcher, I realized I was applying the same structured process I used in my professional life:

1. Understanding the Users: My kids had different needs at each stage of their lives and of travel.

2. Research: I sought insights from other parents, read travel hacks, and reflected on past experiences.

3. Ideation & Testing: I experimented with different activity kits, snacks, and engagement techniques.

4. Iteration: Each trip, I refined my strategies, adjusting for what worked and what didn’t.

The Birth of Juni Bags: A UX Case Study in Parenting & Travel

Through this iterative process, I developed a concept: Juni Bags—travel activity kits for kids up to 6 years old on long-haul flights.

• I sourced engaging, compact activities like coloring books, sticker activities, finger puppets, and small surprise toys.

• I tested different types of packaging, from folders to ziplock bags to zipper mesh pouches, to see what was easiest to access mid-flight.

• I even added a guide for parents, suggesting how to introduce the activities gradually to keep kids engaged.

What started as a personal survival tool turned into something I created for friends. At one point, I considered launching it as a small business—building a logo, website, and marketing plan. However, the execution wasn’t fully thought out in terms of supply. Because it was for friends, I personally sourced materials but had limited knowledge of wholesale sourcing. I also learned that I’m more proactive and efficient in operations when collaborating with others. Despite these challenges, the process was an invaluable lesson in product design and user testing.

What This Experience Taught Me About UX & Customer Experience

1. Empathy-Driven Design Works Everywhere

   • Whether designing a product or planning a trip, understanding your users (or kids) is the key to creating a successful experience.

2. Structured Planning Saves the Day

   • Having a well-researched framework (like my travel prep) allows for smoother execution.

3. Iteration is Everything

   • No plan works perfectly the first time. Observing, adjusting, and improving is the only way to ensure a successful outcome - whether it’s a product, a customer journey, or a transatlantic flight with toddlers.

Motherhood as an Asset, Not a Career Gap

Before having kids, I worked in Service Design & User Research, helping companies identify gaps in their customer experience. I stepped away from that career for a few years, but that didn’t mean I stopped building relevant skills.

• Every trip, every meltdown avoided, every problem solved was a lesson in human-centered design.

• Every time I refined my travel strategy, I was iterating, optimizing, and thinking like a researcher.

• Every time I packed an activity kit, I was designing an experience tailored to my audience.

The reality is, motherhood builds skills that are highly valuable in the workforce—whether or not they fit neatly into a resume.

Your Turn: What "Invisible" Skills Have You Gained?

I know I’m not alone in this. Whether you’ve taken a break from work or have had to juggle parenting and professional life, you’ve built skills that matter.

• Have you ever had to manage chaos (aka event planning)?

• Have you had to negotiate with an unreasonable toddler (aka conflict resolution)?

• Have you had to plan months ahead for a smooth outcome (aka strategic thinking)?

Let’s start recognizing and owning these skills. Share your thoughts: What’s one parenting moment that secretly made you a better professional?

Take the time I organized a learning pod beginning of the pandemic for my then two-year-old’s classroom. Everything was closed, and it all felt uncertain, but I knew how important community and learning is for our kids. A value that I hold in high regard myself. It wasn’t easy - coordinating parents, getting buy-in from teachers, and navigating school admin guidelines - but we did it. And looking back, I realized that experience wasn’t just about survival; it was a crash course in project management.

Motherhood has shown me that the skills we gain are far more impactful than we give ourselves credit for. Here are five of the most powerful transferable skills that I believe moms bring to the workforce.

1. Project & Time Management

If there’s one thing moms know, it’s how to get things done. Organizing the learning pod during the pandemic was my first foray into project management, requiring me to navigate a complex web of expectations. From aligning teacher guidelines to addressing parent concerns and adhering to school policies, it demanded coordination, planning, and execution.

But the lessons didn’t stop there. Every day as a mom is a crash course in time management. With just a few hours between school drop-off and pick-up, I tackle the day’s priorities: preparing snacks, walking the dog, organizing for classes like swim or dance, and squeezing in responsibilities - whether for a workout, running errands, or finally getting down to networking & job applications. One missed detail - a late class arrival or a forgotten water bottle - can derail the day’s flow. Motherhood teaches you to plan, prioritize, and deliver with precision.

2. Adaptability

If motherhood has taught me anything, it’s to expect the unexpected. Whether it’s pivoting when a birthday entertainer cancels or juggling last-minute dentist appointments while dealing with a sick dog, moms learn to adapt and problem-solve in real time.

It’s a daily affair here at our house. About how a few weeks ago, I had a day chalked out by my priorities of work, especially focused on networking & job applications. Kids were dropped off, came back home, and just finished a workout when I got a call from school to pick up a sick kid. Of course, my whole day changed. I had to adapt to this new day, changing priorities, scheduling the pediatrician, and handling the non-negotiables while caring for a sick kid right next to me. This is just one piece of many moments that I’ve had to adopt quick thinking, and problem-solving while keeping the end goal in mind.

Plans change - often without notice. According to a study by The Center for Creative Leadership, adaptability is one of the top three skills leaders need to thrive in the workplace, particularly in volatile or changing environments. Moms learn to pivot quickly, adjust on the fly, and make decisions under pressure. Whether it’s managing kids’ needs or responding to workplace challenges, adaptability is a skill moms perfect daily.

3. Team Dynamics & Conflict Resolution

Raising kids is like managing a small team, except the team members are unpredictable and often have conflicting priorities. Playdates and parties often feel like live experiments in team dynamics and conflict resolution. Picture five kids of varying ages in one room, all wanting different things. To avoid chaos, I pre-plan activities that engage everyone, like giving the oldest a leadership role or setting easy-to-follow group rules.

These experiences mirror what’s needed in professional environments. Understanding group dynamics, mediating team conflicts, and creating inclusive environments are skills moms hone daily. Whether it’s resolving sibling disputes or negotiating with a strong-willed toddler, these moments prepare us to navigate workplace challenges with ease.

4. Activating Spidey Sense (Emotional Intelligence)

Parenthood sharpens your ability to anticipate needs, read between the lines, and respond proactively. I call this skill “activating spidey sense.” Whether it’s sensing when my child needs extra comfort or noticing when a playdate is about to go south, this heightened awareness helps me show up for others.

In a professional setting, this translates to anticipating client needs, reading a room, and staying a step ahead in collaborative environments. It’s not just intuition—it’s a practiced skill that allows moms to excel in roles requiring foresight and empathy.

5. Leadership

Leadership isn’t about perfection - it’s about vision, resilience, and learning from failure. Beyond being the primary parent and managing household operations, I’ve stepped into various leadership roles over the past six years:

• Co-led our home remodel, taking charge of design, sourcing, and landscaping.

• Launched a sustainable clothing brand celebrating Indian craftsmanship.

• Organized & executed an annual neighborhood block party

• Built a community of strangers turned friends, inspired by the Indian kitty party concept.

• Regularly volunteering at both my daughters’ schools while also discovering a passion for gardening and growing food.

These experiences taught me that leadership isn’t about perfection - it’s about learning from failure, inspiring others, and making tough decisions. Moms lead every single day, whether it’s organizing schedules, guiding their families, or stepping into professional spaces with clarity and decisiveness. Leadership is something I practice daily and carry into every role I take on.

To Conclude…
Motherhood doesn’t put skills on pause; it enhances them in ways we rarely acknowledge. From project management to emotional intelligence, moms bring unparalleled value to the workforce.

I’m curious to know about you: What skills have you developed as a mom that could transform your professional journey? It’s time we embrace these strengths, celebrate them, and show the world that being a mom makes us stronger, more capable professionals.

Because let’s face it - once a mom is on a mission, there’s no stopping her.

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For a long time, I’ve wrestled with how to “package” my career gap. On paper, it’s six years of stepping away from work to focus on raising my two daughters. But in reality, it’s so much more than that. Those six years were filled with learning, resilience, and creativity - just not the kind that shows up neatly on a traditional resume.

As I sat down to write my story for my website, I kept asking myself: How do I explain this gap in a way that highlights not what’s missing, but what’s been gained? And that’s when it hit me: This wasn’t a gap. It was growth. A transformation!

During this time, I became more than I’d ever been before. I became a logistics expert - coordinating family schedules and pulling off last-minute plans like a pro. I was a conflict mediator - navigating sibling battles with the finesse of a seasoned negotiator. I was an event planner - organizing everything from birthday parties to learning pods. I was an entrepreneur - dreaming up and launching new ideas. And most importantly, I was a mother - learning patience, perspective, and perseverance in ways I never thought possible.

But when it comes to re-entering the workforce, those experiences often feel invisible. The traditional hiring world tends to see only the gap. It doesn’t look for the growth. And honestly? That has made me question my own worth at times.

Building my website has been a chance to rewrite that narrative—not just for the world, but for myself. It’s a declaration that I am more than my career gap. I’m a mom AND a strategist. A caregiver AND a creator. A woman who paused to focus on her family, but who also grew into a stronger, more resourceful, and more capable professional because of it.

This process has also sparked a bigger question: Why does society undervalue the experiences of caregiving? Why don’t we celebrate the skills parents gain during these so-called “gaps”? And how can we, as moms, take charge of redefining what those years mean for us?

I’m not claiming to have all the answers, but I believe this conversation is long overdue. That’s why I started Empower the Gap, a space for moms like me to explore these questions and navigate the transition back into professional life with clarity and pride.

If you’ve ever struggled to explain a career gap, or if you’ve found it hard to see the value in your journey, I’d love to hear from you. What have you learned during your time as a parent that has changed how you approach work and life? How do you reframe growth that doesn’t come with a paycheck?

Let’s start a dialogue about what it means to grow, thrive, and succeed in ways the world doesn’t always see.

Together, let’s redefine the gap.

The Current Narrative

This is where the narrative often falls short of recognizing the true value of these experiences. Society usually undervalues the contributions of mothers who pause their careers to raise children. This disconnect often places undue focus on what we lack—recent work experience—rather than the invaluable skills we’ve gained. Studies show that mothers with career gaps often face bias in hiring, with their resumes seen as less competitive. For instance, research published in the American Journal of Sociology found that mothers were perceived as less competent and committed, resulting in their resumes being 47% less likely to receive callbacks compared to equally qualified non-mothers. This narrative diminishes the immense value of parenting, which hones skills like time management, conflict resolution, adaptability, and emotional intelligence—skills highly relevant in today’s job market.

A New Perspective

Being a mom and a professional isn’t an either-or decision. It’s a “yes, and” opportunity. The multitasking abilities you develop while raising kids are akin to project management. Resolving sibling disputes? That’s conflict mediation. Managing a household budget? Financial planning. Overseeing family schedules? That’s logistical expertise. Overseeing family management? That’s being a CEO or an entrepreneur—navigating strategy, resource allocation, and long-term planning. Research supports this parallel: a 2014 study in the Journal of Applied Psychology found that individuals managing high-pressure environments, like households, tend to excel in entrepreneurial roles. Additionally, Salary.com's 2021 Annual Mom Salary Survey estimated that the median annual salary for stay-at-home moms would be $184,820 if compensated for the diverse roles they undertake. This highlights the substantial economic and organizational value mothers bring to their families and communities. Motherhood equips us with unique strengths that can redefine what it means to be a valuable professional. We don’t just deserve a seat at the table - we bring perspective and skills that are game-changing.

The Bigger Picture

As I navigate my own journey of returning to work, I realized how little we, as a society, talk about the unique challenges and opportunities moms face after a career gap. These are not isolated experiences—they’re a collective reality for countless women who’ve taken time off to raise their families. Yet, so often, the professional value of motherhood remains overlooked.

This isn’t just about career gaps; it’s about reframing them as periods of growth and transformation. It’s about recognizing that every phase of motherhood equips us with strengths that extend far beyond the home. It’s about seeing the multitasking, problem-solving, and leadership skills developed during motherhood as assets, not setbacks. And most importantly, it’s about creating a space where moms can have open, honest conversations about their experiences and aspirations. It’s time to start asking: How can we, as a society, do better to support moms on their journeys back into the workforce?

Call to Conversation

This is why I believe we need to spark conversations about redefining career gaps and embracing the professional value of motherhood. It’s not just about changing how we see ourselves, but also about challenging societal perceptions and creating spaces where moms feel empowered to re-enter the workforce on their terms. It’s about acknowledging the skills we’ve gained, the growth we’ve experienced, and the value we bring to the table.

Have you ever felt like your professional identity was overshadowed by motherhood? What strengths do you think you’ve gained during your time as a parent that the world might overlook? How can we, as a society, actively support and value mothers as they transition into professional opportunities?

Take a moment to reflect on these questions, and let’s spark an honest conversation about how motherhood shapes professional potential. Together, we can challenge assumptions, celebrate skills, and empower moms to step confidently into their next chapter.

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