Book Summary: Year of Yes
I started out this year reading Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes as part of a book club, and it has stuck with me since reading it. I loved this book. Like many of the books that I take the time to do a write up about, it came to me at exactly the right time.
So much of what she says “yes” to isn’t just about copying the movie “Yes Man” and following the ensuing hijinks. It was about learning what she was saying no to in her life. It was about learning how she was slowly losing herself to be this person that sought comfort instead of growing outside of her comfort zone.
Some of the book was a bit meandering at times, and I often felt like I was reading the book in the voice of Meredith Grey. Here were the things that stuck with me.
Being a working mom
Rhimes has a powerful viewpoint on being a working mom. She is an incredibly successful woman and is open about the fact that it is impossible to “do it all”, and anyone who claims to do so is lying.
As a working mom myself, I need this constant reminder. More women need to be honest about this. It is so easy to get lost in the visions of women on social media being a mom to their five children, homeschooling them all, meanwhile running a small business and a farmstead and living this perfect, amazing, nutritionally balanced and eco-friendly life. But it is all a lie. It either isn’t happening the way they are trying to convince scrollers it is, or they are getting a tremendous amount of help that they are conveniently leaving off of their instagram feed.
It’s okay to accept that you can’t do it all. It’s okay to know that there is a trade-off that you are making. Because that trade-off means that your children will get to see in their world that mothers can make something of themselves. Moms can build empires. They can be women that are fulfilled, happy, and generally a badass.
This has been nearly a daily struggle for me since becoming a parent. It has lessened over time, but I still feel immense guilt during times when I drop my children off at daycare so that I can work. Or for the times that I decide to read a book instead of playing with my toddler.
I wish that I were the type of woman who could stay home and focus on her kids 24/7. I love them so, so much. But I am not that woman. I am a better mom to them because of the time that I get to do the things that I love doing. And I love my job. I know that not everyone has that luxury and I feel so privileged to be one of the lucky few that is excited about waking up in the morning and fixing the problems that I get to fix, or building the things that I get to build.
Despite knowing that, I am also constantly fighting the battle with myself that I should be home taking care of my kids. Almost every day. And, based on the commentary in Year of Yes, Rhimes feels that same guilt, and doesn’t allow it to take hold in her life.
Being a mother isn’t a job. It’s who someone is. It’s who I am. You can quit a job. I can’t quit being a mother. I’m a mother forever. Mothers are never off the clock, mothers are never on vacation. Being a mother redefines us, reinvents us, destroys and rebuilds us. Being a mother brings us face-to-face with ourselves as children, with our mothers as human beings, with our darkest fears of who we really are. Being a mother requires us to get it together or risk messing up another person forever. Being a mother yanks our hearts out of our bodies and attaches them to our tiny humans and sends them out into the world, forever hostages. If all of that happened at work, I’d have quit fifty times already. Because there isn’t enough money in the world. And my job does not pay me in the smell of baby head and the soft weight of snuggly sleepy toddler on my shoulder. Being a mother is incredibly important. To the naysayers, I growl, do not diminish it by calling it a job. And please, don’t ever try to tell me it’s the most important job I’ll ever have as a way of trying to convince me to stay at home with my children all day. Don’t. I might punch you in the nose.
Stop dreaming, just do the next thing
The book had the entire text of Rhimes' commencement speech for Dartmouth, which is also available online. The bulk of this speech focused on the idea that the important thing isn’t to dream the best dreams. It’s to keep moving. Keep doing. You will probably end up somewhere that you didn’t expect, and that is actually the best thing for you.
Dreaming won’t get you anywhere. You can dream all of the best dreams and still end up with absolutely nothing. Dreams don’t pay the bills.
I have been guilty about being a bit of a dreamer. I think many of us that grew up in the time of “You can do anything!” are likely in the same boat. Yes, I theoretically could have done anything with my life. I could have become an astronaut, or a famous author, or the President of the United States.
But dreaming those things isn’t what got me to where I am today. I didn’t dream of being a software engineer. In fact, I didn’t even consider it until it was staring me in the face as the next best option for me. I just found that I really loved automating things, and then it hit me that that was a thing that I could actually do for money. I never dreamt it but I am so, so glad that I did it.
The truth is, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to know. You just have to keep moving forward. You just have to keep doing something, seizing the next opportunity, staying open to trying something new. It doesn’t have to fit your vision of the perfect job or the perfect life. Perfect is boring, and dreams are not real. Just . . . DO.
“I am not lucky, I am a badass”
But why am I running around saying it’s NOT me? Because it is. It’s me. It’s me and it’s them. It’s US. And what the hell is up with the “I’m just so lucky” line? I’m not merely lucky. No one who succeeds is merely lucky. Not in the “she tripped and fell right onto a television ratings chart” way. Lucky implies I didn’t do anything. Lucky implies something was given to me. Lucky implies that I was handed something I did not earn, that I did not work hard for. Gentle reader, may you never be lucky. I am not lucky. You know what I am? I am smart, I am talented, I take advantage of the opportunities that come my way and I work really, really hard. Don’t call me lucky. Call me a badass.
I have a heck of a time taking a compliment. And not in a cutesy “aw shucks” kind of way. In an “I am incredibly uncomfortable being told something went well and I have no idea what to say now” kind of way.
I am also guilty of pointing to luck as an out to not have to learn to take a compliment. But I totally agree, I am not lucky. Maybe in some ways I have been lucky with the right opportunity at the right time. I was lucky that my resume was chosen out of the stack of hundreds or thousands of resumes for some of the jobs I have gotten. But I have also worked hard to get to where I am. And I intend to keep doing so for a very long time.
Rhimes points out that this is likely a very common trait in women, as they are often praised for “displaying traits that basically render them invisible”. How women must martyr themselves and diminish who they are to be a good mother.
Rhimes lays it out very easily. Just say “thank you” and smile. No explanation needed. I am not lucky. I am a badass.
My own Year of Yes
While I don’t intend to carry out a Year of Yes in quite the way that Shonda Rhimes did, the book has inspired me to step out of my own comfort zone a bit. Yes, my life is in a precarious spot. I have three young children that are incredibly dependent on me. I don’t have time for really much of anything. But I want to use my voice more.
It is time to stop standing at the edges of rooms. Hugging the walls. Living in my head. Wishing I had something to say.
I have something to say. Quite a bit, actually. Despite my imposter syndrome I know that I have earned the right to say “I know some things, and those things could help other people”. Which I suppose is why I am here.
I don’t have a ton of extra time, but I plan to spend that time synthesizing the things that I do know into something a bit more tangible and useful. A conference talk here, a PDF of notes there. A blog post that allows me to do some deep research on subjects that I am passionate about and prepare it for the world. Some things that allow me to use my creativity and share some of my knowledge with the internet.
The Year of Yes came into my life at just the right time. And I can’t wait to say Yes to even more.