Leaving social work at the door.

I am a social worker, bleeding heart and all. This is who I am. It makes up a large portion of my identity. It riles me up when I hear of injustice. It urges me to listen to the underdog. And it perplexes me as I try to understand the complexities of life's numerous dilemmas. This is who I am.

But...

I am also a wife and a daughter and a sister and a friend and a student and many times it is hard to be these while donning my social worker hat.

A few days ago, Micah's family had a mini-crisis on their hands. In the midst of talking about what was going on, I got entirely sidetracked on the implausibility of numerous ideas and thoughts of various family members. It was my brain working in overtime to analyze the situation, criticize the power players, and not so humbly completely forget that, aside from messing in family politics, being a wife was more important for the moment. Being the person that Micah, my friends, family members, and colleagues need often means setting aside prodding for understanding and "intervening" as I see fit. And it most definitely means putting down my obsession of the underdog. Because although there's most likely someone that has it worst off, trying times are not the best to raise such awareness.

Sometimes, I just need to leave (social) work at the door. To give an example of how extreme I may be, Micah and I compromised at 95% social work to 5% not.

It's going to be a rough ride giving up that 5%, but social work shouldn't control my whole life. It's who I am, but it's not all I am. I would hope I'm a little more complex than that.