We wrestle with the fallout of feminism. 

Think what you will about feminism’s tumultuous social and political history, but it’s hard to dispute the troubling findings on women’s mental health. Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers from the University of Pennsylvania found women’s self-reported happiness has declined since the 1970s both overall and in comparison to men. Feminism in its current form has failed women: so many are unhappy and unfulfilled, not enlightened and empowered. 

Our generation of young women hungers to fill the void left behind, but we cannot do so without first repairing our broken relationship with work. 

As women, we long to give ourselves fully to something: a noble, beautiful impulse. We desire, in return, to be esteemed and loved. Because of this natural generosity, women are particularly vulnerable to two fallacies. 

Many of us wonder: “If I give myself entirely to my professional work and win the race to the top, will I be esteemed and loved?”

Others (and even some of the same women) think: “If I give myself entirely to my husband and children, creating a picture-perfect home life, will I be valued as a woman?”

While we phrase these questions quite differently in our interior monologues, they captivate the minds of Hillsdale’s women. The problem with either scenario is not the type of work that occupies us, but our tendency to give work a role that belongs only to God: the author of our identity and worth as women. 

Only after the Industrial Revolution did we begin dividing work sharply between the “domestic” and “professional” spheres, as if there was no interaction between the two. For thousands of years beforehand, most men and women worked alongside each other at the common family business – think of Charles and Caroline Ingalls from the “Little House on the Prairie” books.

When we fixate too sharply on the divide, we can lose sight of the dignity and meaning of every kind of work. Both men and women are called to cultivate and care for Creation. All work has physical and supernatural value: done well, it becomes a means to virtue and happiness.

This fragmentation can also distract us from a vocational understanding of work, something more complex than the superficial labels of “housewife” or “executive.” Every man and woman exists to know, love, and serve God: our primary vocation. As social beings, we live for self-giving relationships, which take on different forms in the lives of single, married, and celibate men and women. Our particular professional callings – the way we put our talents at the service of our neighbor – are just as varied.

We find lasting joy and satisfaction by discerning and acting on our particular spiritual, relational, and professional vocation. Lived out well, they become an integrated whole that permeates our entire life. 

The role of wife, mother, and homemaker cannot be a cop-out from the question of vocation. So many generous, loving women are tempted to put the entire question of their self-worth and identity into the roles of wife and mother, leaving them unhappy in the home and lost when their children grow up and move away. Failing to address their spiritual and professional vocations creates profound repercussions in their families and wider society.

Many talented young women become wary of marriage and motherhood when they observe this pattern among the homemakers they know, concluding that only a career outside the home is capable of meeting women’s hunger for identity and fulfillment. 

Rather, as I saw in my own mother’s life, motherhood can and should be the culmination of our moral, intellectual, and spiritual life. 

This is not to say that every full-time mother and homemaker needs a paid professional role. For some, this is the best path, but there are countless other ways for women to put their gifts to use while growing in identity: volunteering at a hospital, directing a choir, running a blog, coaching a sports team, holding a Bible study. The list goes on. 

Nor is this to say that motherhood does not bring a wealth of personal development, the extent of which childless college students cannot fully imagine. The work of raising children and caring for a home is no joke – we pay strangers to replicate what many mothers do without salary or outside recognition every day of their lives. These women gain a wealth of wisdom and virtue from their work. 

That said, it’s immature and self-righteous to assume selfishness on the part of women who choose to work outside the home, or to dictate that women “belong” solely in the home. There are a million factors we cannot see behind any woman’s choice to work outside the home. 

Most single mothers, unmarried women, and widows have no other choice. Altruistic reasons motivate many women to continue their careers: whether that is to pay medical bills, support an aging parent, or afford sending their children to quality schools. 

It’s easy to take for granted the abundance of professional opportunities now available to women, but don’t. For hundreds of years, women were essentially limited to nursing, teaching, and secretary work, if an outside profession was an option at all. Now, we can do almost anything. I, for one, am grateful to enjoy the same education and opportunities in journalism as my male peers. 

Women don’t belong to the corporate world, as certain strains of feminism would have us believe, but they undoubtedly belong in it. Whatever their particular temperaments and gifts, all women bring an irreplaceable genius for relationality to the workplace. The professional world needs the life experience that devoted wives and mothers bring into their work. Done with a mind of service and a dedication to excellence, work in the professional sphere enriches our relationships and identity.

My own mother, an exceptional lawyer, was criticized both for scaling back her time at the firm to have children, and later, for continuing to work part-time in order to provide for our education. I’m grateful she persevered in her particular vocation, putting her genius for law to use both in her job and in our community. Her professional excellence had its roots in the sacrificial way she put her relationships with God, husband, and children at the center of her life. 

My mother’s legal excellence made her a better wife and mother (and, I daresay, a top-tier essay editor). She modeled for her children – and especially for her only daughter – the way to live an integrated life. 

There is no cut-and-dried formula for balancing the responsibilities of family and one’s professional vocation. Women thrive by adapting their work to different seasons of life. This balance looks different in the life of every woman, and the very least we can do is refrain from judging them. 

Rather than feeling threatened by women who make different choices than us, we should honor all those who dedicate themselves to their vocation, whatever form it takes. 

As young women looking forward to our futures, we cannot stake our futures on either the hope of an “M.R.S.” and motherhood or professional success. Recognizing the profound goods of both motherhood and professional work, we can embrace our integrated vocation in the present moment, finding our identity in the love of God.