What to say when your kids ask why you work
How to answer the question we’re often still asking ourselves
My three-year-old daughter finally asked the question I'd been dreading.
"Mom, why do you have to go to work?"
We were standing in our kitchen after breakfast. I was about to head upstairs to my home office when she looked up at me with those big, curious eyes, waiting for an answer.
Suddenly, I was speechless. Not because I didn't have an answer, but because I wasn't sure which answer was the right one.
The irony wasn't lost on me. I had left my corporate job a few months earlier to build something new. I was working from home, for myself. Technically, I didn't have to go anywhere. I had no urgent meetings or hard deadlines. I couldn't hide behind "the office" anymore.
For the first time as a founder, I paused and wondered: Should I just spend the day with my kids?
But the truth was: I wanted to work that day. Just like I want to work most days.
So what was I supposed to tell her?
I started running through the usual answers parents give, and they all felt... off.
"I work so I can make money to buy things for our family."
Technically, that's true. But not the whole truth. I want my girls to understand the value of money, but I also want them to see work as more than a means to a paycheck. And, technically, I'm not making money yet (except through this newsletter - shoutout to my generous paid subscribers!).
"I work because it's my job, and your job is to go to school."
That made work sound like a chore, an obligation. Not exactly inspiring. I don't want work to be something we complain about.
"I work so I can help people."
This one felt closer to the truth. But it felt too generic and still didn't capture the full picture of why I chose to do what I do.
What I really needed was a reason that felt true, one I believed deeply enough to say out loud.
Maybe that's why the question felt so complicated.
My daughter has never asked my husband why he works.
He heads into his home office every day and she doesn't blink. And I know he doesn't feel guilty about working. He's a loving, engaged parent who moves through his workdays without second-guessing whether he should be doing something else.
But when I go to work, it suddenly feels like something that needs justifying. Like choosing work means I'm not choosing her.
And I know I'm not alone. So many moms tell me: If I'm going to be away from my kids, that time better be really worth it. The bar is high because our families are everything, and leaving them, even temporarily, feels like a trade.
So we wrestle with the question why do I work? And if we don't have a solid answer, it's hard to own it.
During my sabbatical, I spent much of the time rethinking my relationship with work.
Letting go of my job title forced me to confront how much of my identity was tied to ambition, to achievement, to feeling important. I had to ask myself: Who am I when I'm not chasing the next milestone?
And eventually, the answer came.
Yes, work supports my family. Financially, I do need to contribute - our life is built on two incomes, and not working isn’t really an option.
But within that reality, I still get to choose how I show up. I get to decide what I build, who I serve, and what kind of legacy I leave behind.
Because more than anything, I work because I want to create something that matters. Something that didn't exist before. Something that could support ambitious women like me, and maybe, one day, my daughters.
I want to make a tiny dent in my corner of the universe and feel proud of how I spend my time doing it.
So when my daughter asked, I decided to tell her the truth.
“I want to go to work. I'm building something special that will help other moms."
That simple shift in language helped me feel better about my answer. It reminded me that this, too, is part of the story I'm modeling for her. Not just about work, but about purpose. About agency. About building a life that reflects your values.
I shouldn’t feel guilty about going to work, just like other moms shouldn't feel guilty about staying home. Both are choices. Both hold value and can be done with intention.
When we own our decisions instead of apologizing for them, we teach our kids that work can be something to embrace, not endure.
Because that's the kind of relationship with work I want her to see.
Namaste,
Tamara
Thank you for sharing. I also find this question tough to answer when my child asks me and "to make money" feels icky. Giving it some more thought now