It’s Not True: On My Deathbed, I Will Be Wishing I Had Worked More

I studied like crazy in high school. I had to. I wanted to keep up with my super-smart peers, I wanted to do well, and I wanted to get into a “good” college. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do beyond those things, but I knew, at least, where I wanted to start. And I succeeded. I was admitted into a top university, and I earned a bachelor’s degree cum laude. When I graduated, I took a mediocre job, which quickly morphed into an exciting one. There I discovered my love of writing and my interest in health. Eventually, I left that company when the politics grew wearisome. Rinse, repeat. After just a few years, I was on my way. The firm’s president took me under her wing. She brought me into high-level meetings, introduced me to high-level clients. My professional career was a certainty. And then two things happened: 1) I got pregnant and 2) the <a href="https://medium.com/the-memoirist/my-journey-to-redefining-health-6f4f14ae1ccf" rel="noopener">multiple sclerosis that I had been diagnosed with</a> a couple years prior became more difficult to manage. My husband and I bought a townhouse that we could afford on just one salary and when my son was born, I quit my job. I didn’t know how long I’d live the life of a stay-at-home mother, but I knew that was all I could manage for a time. <a href="https://medium.com/age-of-empathy/its-not-true-on-my-deathbed-i-will-be-wishing-i-had-worked-more-61e363770296">Learn More</a>