My Worth is Not Defined by My Earning Potential

Parenting

My Worth is Not Defined by My Earning Potential

At home insemination kit

Updated: March 4, 2021
Originally Published: March 4, 2021
Justin Case/Getty

I live with a disability. In fact, I have multiple disabilities, with my bipolar II being the most challenging and often the one that triggers the others. These disabilities are not visible to the naked eye. To manage them, I rely on a variety of medications, but their effectiveness has its limits. I still frequently experience anxiety that can make even simple tasks feel overwhelming. Working a standard eight-hour day outside of my home is beyond my capabilities. In a society driven by late-stage capitalism, if you cannot commit to a traditional work schedule, you are often seen as having no value; you become a burden to others.

Our culture insists that everyone must contribute in some way. A shocking 84% of Americans believe it is shameful to be out of work, as indicated by a recent NBC poll. While I am not unemployed—I have a full-time career as a writer—many view my work as a mere hobby because I cannot take it outside my home or stick to regular hours (sometimes I find myself writing in the early hours of the morning).

The Pain of Feeling Valueless

Living with a disability is a challenge in itself. Most disabled individuals, especially those of us dealing with mental health issues, have learned to accept certain limitations. There are tasks I know I simply cannot accomplish, and that realization is painful. High-anxiety environments, or what most consider a “normal” workday, are nearly impossible for me. The expectations in such settings can be overwhelming, and I often find myself spiraling into doubt about my ability to meet them.

Fortunately, I can write and work from home on my own schedule. I consider myself a good parent (or perhaps a not-so-great one; you can read my work and decide for yourself). We homeschool our children. Yet, in the eyes of society, this work holds little value. As reported by England’s The Times, many writers face similar scrutiny.

It hurts when your contributions are dismissed. When I socialize with other mothers, they often treat my writing as an endearing hobby. Even during calls with editors, their laughter implies they view my commitment to writing as something cute rather than a serious pursuit. My former professors, who once envisioned me achieving tenure and crafting the Great American Novel, now perceive me as a brilliant but failed case. Their unspoken judgment seems to whisper, “What a shame she couldn’t manage it because of her mental health.”

But I refuse to accept this narrative. My life is filled with value and meaning. Although I may struggle with my mental health and have had to revise my dreams along the way, it does not equate to a complete loss of purpose.

The Struggle of Being Invisible

In a world that measures strength by the ability to work an eight-hour day, those of us who cannot are deemed weak. This perceived weakness translates into a lack of worthiness. For instance, I receive significantly less Social Security benefits than someone who has committed to a traditional job for decades. Some argue this is fair because they have “worked harder” than I have.

No, it’s not about who has worked harder; rather, it’s about how society values different types of labor. Yes, I earn money through my writing. But I also devote countless hours to homeschooling and nurturing my kids, work that often goes unpaid. Just because I’m not clocking in at a corporate job doesn’t mean I lack purpose. I manage a household, teach my children, and even volunteer when I can.

Yet, the narrative persists: “I ‘only’ write,” “I ‘only’ stay home with my children.” In a society that equates worth with productivity, failing to “earn my keep” renders me worthless. Even fellow stay-at-home moms, aware of my disabilities, sometimes give me judgmental looks. They know there have been times when my husband had to step in to take care of our children when I was struggling—despite not being physically ill. This leads to the perception that I am simply lazy or inadequate. A better mother wouldn’t need her husband to miss work because she was overwhelmed.

This diminishes my value as a wife and mom.

My Intrinsic Value Needs No Justification

When a world constantly tells you that you are worthless, it’s easy to internalize that message, especially when you’re already grappling with self-doubt. I find myself thinking that my family would be better off without me because I cannot hold a standard job. Society dictates that a mother who can work, transport her kids more frequently, and manage domestic tasks is superior. She would presumably be happier, healthier, and more productive.

Productivity is the metric by which we are judged. I often feel the need to prove my worth as a disabled individual by asserting, “Look, I do have value! I am productive, even if you don’t see it.” But here’s the truth: I don’t need to be productive to have worth. My existence alone grants me value, and I deserve respect, dignity, food, shelter, and care. I should not be evaluated based on capitalist standards that place individuals like Bill Gates at the top and rank the rest of us by income. Is this really the kind of world we want to inhabit?

If my worth is contingent upon my ability to work 9-5, then what does that say about the elderly or infants? Should we dismiss their needs and contributions simply because they don’t match a capitalist model? Should we disregard individuals like me, offering only the bare minimum while expecting gratitude?

No. We must acknowledge that despite our disabilities or societal limitations, we deserve not just to survive but to thrive. My bipolar II may hinder my capacity to hold a traditional job, but it does not strip my life of meaning. I deserve love, care, and respect.

Holding onto this belief is challenging, especially when faced with overwhelming anxiety or exhaustion. But moments of vulnerability do not equate to a lack of intrinsic value; they simply indicate a need for rest.

I matter. My disabilities may be invisible, but my worth is undeniable. My financial contributions to my family do not define my value.

For more insights on navigating similar experiences, check out this related post on home insemination. If you’re exploring your fertility journey, Make a Mom provides valuable resources. Additionally, Healthline offers excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination.

Summary:

This article emphasizes that an individual’s worth is not contingent upon their productivity or ability to work a standard job. The author, Maria Thompson, shares her experiences living with disabilities, particularly bipolar II, and illustrates how societal norms often devalue those who cannot conform to traditional work expectations. Despite the challenges of managing mental health, she advocates for the recognition of intrinsic value beyond economic contributions.