I’d been with the company five years. Solid reviews. Always showed up.
After maternity leave, I came back. Freshly divorced. Early logins, late logouts, and a colicky one-year-old. Baby monitor on one side, spreadsheets on the other. I was surviving.
But then came THE MEETING.
My manager pulled me into a conference room. The door closed.
“We’ve appreciated your time with the company,” he started. “But we need someone without… distractions.”
Distractions.
That’s what he called my son.
“You’re professional,” he added, “but we need someone who won’t mind unpaid overtime. Work weekends. Be fully committed.”
I smiled.
“Thanks for the honesty.”
And I walked out.
But I already knew exactly what I was going to do. ⬇️
I drove home with my hands shaking on the steering wheel. My son, Micah, was asleep in his car seat, his tiny chest rising and falling with soft breaths. I parked in our cracked apartment lot, stared out the windshield for a long minute, and whispered, “They think I’m a distraction.”
No. I have a distraction. A beautiful one. One that drools and kicks and cries every time I leave the room. But he’s also the reason I’m still standing.
I cried in the parking lot for five full minutes, then wiped my face with the back of my sleeve and made Micah a promise.
“We’re going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”
Week One: Chaos & Coffee
I applied to every remote job I could find: data entry, customer support, virtual assistant gigs. Nothing stuck. No callbacks. No interviews.
In between nap times and feedings, I started something new—something small.
I remembered that when I was pregnant, I used to doodle little inspirational quotes on sticky notes and stick them on my fridge. Friends always loved them. “You should sell these,” they used to say.
So I grabbed a sketchpad and started making digital versions of them. Little squares with bright colors and simple messages:
You’re doing better than you think.
One moment at a time.
Crying means you care. Let it out.
I posted a few on Instagram, not thinking much of it. Just needed to feel human again. Like I was doing something creative, something mine.
Week Two: Unexpected DMs
I woke up one morning to 112 notifications. At first, I thought my account got hacked. But no—it was people. Real people sharing my posts. Commenting. Messaging me.
“I needed this today.”
“This made me cry. Thank you.”
“Do you sell prints?”
I blinked. Sell?
So I stayed up that night after putting Micah to sleep and figured out how to list downloadable prints on Etsy. No inventory. Just a simple digital file. A few bucks each.
First day? One sale.
Second day? Three sales.
End of week? $97 total.
Not enough to pay rent, but it was more than zero.
Week Four: A Message That Changed Everything
A woman named Serena messaged me.
“Hi, I run a mental health nonprofit. Would you be open to creating some custom pieces for our upcoming campaign?”
I read the message three times, not believing it.
I said yes.
We hopped on a Zoom call during Micah’s nap. I wore a blouse on top and pajama pants on the bottom. Serena didn’t care. She smiled when Micah cried halfway through and told me, “You’re doing amazing, by the way.”
Her team paid me $400 for ten pieces.
I cried again—but this time, from gratitude.
Three Months Later: The Shift
My little Etsy shop grew. I added journals, phone wallpapers, even a few hand-lettered mugs. Every design had a message—honest, messy, real. Nothing polished or fake. Just truth from the heart of a tired mom trying her best.
I called the shop: “Distraction Designs.”
A little rebellion against what that manager said.
And it stuck.
I started getting repeat customers. Then bulk orders. Then a friend helped me build a real website. I wasn’t rich, but I was building something that paid the bills and let me be there for Micah.
And guess what?
I worked weekends.
I stayed up late.
I logged crazy hours.
Because now, I chose to. And I wasn’t doing it to build someone else’s dream—I was building mine.
Six Months Later: A Familiar Name
One morning, I got an email that made me laugh out loud.
Subject line: Freelance Graphic Designer Inquiry
Sender: My old company.
Turns out, they’d seen my designs floating around LinkedIn—probably shared by someone who didn’t even know I used to work there. They wanted someone “with an authentic voice” to help on a new brand campaign.
I stared at the screen for a long time.
I didn’t reply.
Instead, I posted this to Instagram:
“Six months ago, I was a ‘distraction.’
Today, that same company wants to hire me as a freelancer.
Funny how things work when you don’t give up.”
That post hit 10k likes in a week.
Today: One Year Later
Micah turns two next week. He’s wild and funny and into everything. He likes to bring me crayons when I’m working and yell “Mama draw!”
I work from home. I take breaks when he needs me. Sometimes orders get delayed. Sometimes I miss a message or forget to post.
But you know what?
That’s okay.
Because I’m not a distraction.
I’m a mother.
I’m an artist.
I’m a business owner.
And I’m enough.
What I’ve Learned
Life will knock you down at the most inconvenient times. And some people will try to define your worth by what you can’t do.
But the truth is, sometimes the thing they say disqualifies you—the mess, the baby, the baggage—is the exact thing that gives you power.
My son made me more compassionate. More driven. More focused. More creative.
He made me more, not less.
So if you’ve been called a distraction… or feel like your life’s too messy to start something—this is your sign.
Start anyway.
Build with what you’ve got.
Cry when you need to.
Take naps when the baby naps.
And trust that the doors that close are making space for better ones to open.
You’re not too late.
You’re not too much.
You’re just getting started.
💬 If this story touched you, share it with someone who needs encouragement today. Like, comment, and let me know—have you ever turned a “no” into your new beginning?
#DistractionDesigns
#MomsCanBuild
#FromSetbackToSuccess
