Taking “Carer” out of my profile

Popsie and Mumblie - John and Elpie O’Sullivan

Today I removed the word carer from my LinkedIn profile.

It’s taken me months to do, and it’s been surprisingly difficult. Not because I still am one — I’m not. My dad died earlier this year and, with him, my responsibilities in that part of my life ended.

What made it hard was remembering how long it had taken me to put the word there in the first place.

For some years I cared for my parents while continuing to work as a freelancer. I set up a remote office to work from home when I could. I commentated, reported, presented, researched, recorded and met deadlines, often working deep into the night when it was quiet.

Alongside all of that were appointments, phone calls and hours on hold. Shopping, prescriptions, hospital visits, nurses’ visits, increasingly complicated practical problems — and the constant knowledge that somebody you love needs you.

But I was reluctant to call myself a carer. Partly because I didn’t really think of myself that way. They were my parents. Of course I helped them.

The other reason was harder to admit.

I was frightened it might cost me work.

Freelancing already involves a constant calculation about availability. Can you do these dates? Can you travel? Can you stay longer? Can you take a job at short notice? I worried that if people knew I had caring responsibilities, they might decide I wouldn’t be free, that overseas travel could be complicated, or simply that my name wouldn’t make it onto the list.

Nobody ever said that to me, but it is a real fear when you depend on people remembering you when the next opportunity comes along.

So for a long time I kept two versions of my life separate: Lisa the broadcaster, heading off to sporting events with a suitcase, accreditation and weeks of research, and Lisa at home making sure everything was all right. Except, of course, they were never really separate.

Caring affected the work I could accept, where I could go and how long I could comfortably spend away. For every job I did away from home, I also had to prepare for my absence to be covered. Eventually I realised that hiding such a big part of my life was ridiculous. It felt more uncomfortable not to acknowledge it.

So I decided to own it and put the word carer into my professional profile.I was surprised by how liberating that felt. It was an admission that my working life wasn’t untouched by the rest of my life, and that caring wasn’t something embarrassing or professionally disqualifying.

And then today LinkedIn offered me a tick box:

“End current position as of now — Carer.”

Just a few words on a screen.

There is something brutally efficient about the way computers deal with changes that we human beings cannot. One minute it is a current position and the next it has an end date.

The appointments stop coming, everything gets quieter and suddenly every decision relates entirely to you. Something you may have wanted desperately at times but when it comes, you would give anything not to have it.

So now I have to discover what life looks like without my fundamental support network; without the people who were responsible for me, and latterly those I was responsible for. I’m glad that work is a large part of what comes next. I can say yes differently now. I can travel without the same restrictions and make plans further ahead. It is sad, exciting and very strange.

Perhaps that is why taking one word out of a LinkedIn profile feels so significant.

It took me years to allow carer to become part of the way I described myself.

Now I have to learn who I am without it.