Representation Matters

Hello there. Molweni. Molweni 😊

Happy new week!

Happy new month!

Last week I went a little MIA (missing in action). I was completely exhausted after the weekend. It was my daughter’s fifth birthday and let’s just say… there were a lot of moving parts 😂.

I didn’t want the week to run away from me, so I chose to focus on what was in front of me and push the blog post out to this week. Thank you for your grace. I’ll communicate better next time.

With my daughter getting older, I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of mother I want to be. For the record, my intention has always been to live authentically and allow her to witness that. I want her to see my version of what it means to be a woman. I don't want it to fit any mould, just me living my life and showing up as my best self.

In other words, I’ve tried to be intentional about wearing my different hats in front of her, slowly introducing her to the depth and dynamism of who I am outside of just being “Mom.”

But if I’m honest, I’m not fully there yet. I’ve made strides, yes, but there is still work to do.

As I’ve reflected on this, I’ve realized that this has been difficult for me to execute because I feel as though I was not equipped enough to live this out. It sounds amazing as a concept but not so easy to actually live out. Some of the messaging around womanhood and motherhood that I have been exposed to is centered around self sacrifice. And when you don’t see something modeled by someone you can identify with, it becomes difficult to believe it’s attainable.

This is why representation matters.

As a woman of colour, I know firsthand the impact of seeing people who look like me achieve what once felt impossible. It expands your psyche. It stretches your imagination. It widens the realm of what you believe is possible for yourself.

We’ve had important conversations about representation in terms of race and gender. But I want to extend that conversation to something we don’t talk about enough: representation in how we do work.

What do I mean by that?

If you look at any workplace, you’ll find a wide range of people. Some are married. Some are divorced. Some are single. Some have children. Some don’t. Some are caregivers to parents or siblings. Some are building businesses on the side. Some are studying after hours. Some are navigating grief. Some are rebuilding after heartbreak. Some are single and thriving. Others are single and longing. Life looks different for all of us.

And yet, in many workplaces, we show up primarily as our titles. We perform. We deliver. We leave.

To a certain extent, I understand and even value that boundary. Professionalism matters. Privacy matters. But when the boundary becomes so rigid that we erase the overlap between what we do and who we are, we create an incomplete picture of reality.

Junior staff look at senior professionals for guidance and inspiration. But if all they see is perfection and performance , without context, they may assume that success requires seamless perfection.

Perhaps this is why so many people are stressed and quietly crumbling under the pressure of managing multiple roles while pretending those roles don’t intersect. In reality, they overlap more often than we care to admit.

When I reflect on my own career, I’ve largely worked in male-dominated spaces. And when I think about it, I haven’t had many visible examples of women who look like me openly representing the kind of integrated life I aspire to live.

I’ve known brilliant engineers, scientists, and technicians. But I’ve known very little about how they navigated the other dimensions of their lives.

I think this is part of why returning to work after maternity leave was so difficult for me. I had never seen anyone else openly navigate that transition. So when I struggled, I thought I was the problem. I thought I just wasn’t handling it well enough.

Asking for time off to attend to my child felt abnormal; not because it was unreasonable, but because it wasn’t normalized. It felt like I was initiating a special conversation for my individual case, rather than stepping into a culture where these realities were already acknowledged.

And this isn’t only about parents.

Imagine being single in a corporate space where the unspoken assumption is that your time is infinitely flexible because you “don’t have a family.” Imagine being brilliant at your job but also deeply committed to building friendships, traveling, dating intentionally, serving in your community, caring for aging parents, or pursuing creative passions, yet none of that is seen as legitimate life outside of work.

Imagine if more senior single professionals openly modeled what it looks like to excel in their careers while living full, multidimensional lives; not as placeholders waiting for marriage, but as complete individuals now. Representation in work-life integration matters for them too.

Here’s the truth: I am still figuring out how to practically live out being excellent at my job, being a present mom, being a supportive wife and just being well overall.

A few years ago, I found myself buckling under the pressure of polished versions of success that rarely showed fatigue, compromise, outsourcing, or vulnerability.

Now, my goal is different.

My goal is to model integration, not perfection.

That’s why I’ll talk about rushing to the shops with my husband after work five minutes before closing time so my daughter has party packs for school. I’ll talk about staying up late assembling those party packs and arriving at work tired the next day. I’ll talk about outsourcing certain tasks because doing everything myself isn’t sustainable. I’ll talk about the systems we’ve built at home, and the days those systems fail.

Not to overshare. Not to complain. But to gently dismantle the illusion of “having it all together.”

Because maybe when a younger woman looks at me, she won't assume I’ve mastered everything; in fact she’ll feel relief instead of pressure.

Maybe when a single professional sees someone openly blocking out time for therapy, hobbies, rest, or community, they’ll feel validated that their life outside of work matters too.

Maybe when a senior dad openly leaves early to start dinner, it normalizes shared responsibility.

Maybe when someone admits they’re stretched thin, it creates permission for someone else to be honest.

I am not advocating for oversharing or abandoning professionalism. I am simply asking that we take off one layer. Just enough to offer a glimpse of reality.

Because that glimpse creates models. Models create representation and representation relieves pressure.

If you are single, show others how you build a meaningful life alongside your work. If you are a mom, show that you aren’t doing it all, and share the choices you’ve made. If you are a dad or a husband, model integration visibly. If you are caring for family members, speak about it. If you are building something on the side, own it.

When we show how work and life realistically integrate, conversations about mindfulness, mental health, work-life balance, and rest stop being abstract ideas and start becoming practical, embodied realities.

Perhaps then we’ll see fewer breakdowns rooted in silent pressure. Perhaps fewer people will feel alone in their juggling. Perhaps the workplace will begin to reflect the world as it actually is.

The world has shifted. We have evolved.

But in many ways, we are still presenting old versions of success.

It’s time our representation caught up.

Because representation doesn’t just matter in who sits at the table. It matters in how we live once we’re there.

Representation, in the world of work, is not just about who occupies the seat, it’s about what they model once they’re there. It’s about showing that careers are built alongside birthday parties, caregiving, dating, ambition, exhaustion, outsourcing, shared dinners, therapy appointments, side projects, and evolving dreams. When we normalize the visible integration of work and life, we create real, attainable models for people at different stages and in different circumstances. And when people can see how a career is built within the fullness of real life, they no longer have to carry the quiet pressure of pretending it’s all separate or perfectly managed. That is the kind of representation that changes workplace culture; not polished performance, but honest integration.

Have an intentional and blessed week.

Lots of love,

Zizo