UNAPOLOGETIC

Taking time, taking space, and not feeling sorry for it.

This week, I took my first trip abroad, solo, since becoming a mother. I stepped away and it hit me – the relentlessness of motherhood, in those early years. Truly, nothing beats experiencing the routine of a middle-aged father working in the corporate world to realise how differently we go through life.

A lot is being said about mental load these days, and rightly so. One thing I’ve only really admitted to myself this week is that fathers, often enough, get to step away from their family in a way that most mothers don’t. Not in the first months or years of the baby anyway. They go to work, to the gym, the pub. They go on work trips. They get those longer breaks from their children.

I do know mothers, friends and colleagues, who take that time for themselves. But it‘s always noticed. It‘s always sort of unusual. Someone always asks how it feels, or who’s looking after the baby. It might not be meant with bad intentions, but questions are asked. Fathers – they don’t need to justify any of it.

The biological reality of parenting hits women and men differently, and it’s just what it is. But the consequences of those physiological traits – that’s something we have power over.

So I’ve left and tried not to feel guilty about it. I’ve tried to remember that I don’t need to sacrifice myself to be worthy of being her mother.

We’re all different, and some of us are better at taking that space than others. If you’re like me, if you’re a good student, critical of others and yourself, it can be hard to ask for help, and accept it. To ask for space, and enjoy it.

This week, I think I’ve succeeded.

Photo by xx liu on Unsplash