I want to talk about my life as a mother...
In celebration of International Women’s Day.
I want to share about my life as a stay-at-home/create-from-home mother of two.
I want to talk about traditional womanhood and my yearnings for it
and the way my life has slowly yielded to it
and how long and how much it has taken me to value it
and how I still wrestle inside many days
and how God straightens me out
and reminds me that His way is better..
I want to talk about how much joy and fulfilment I find in my home, my kitchen, my laundry…
as well as my writing time just before I cook dinner
I want to talk about my 6 years of motherhood, 7 years of marriage and how bit by bit,
my ‘Independent woman’ armour has been worn down to the softness that was always intended for women.
I want to talk about how I could have round-the-clock help, but choose not to.
I want to talk about all I’ve learned, very honestly, and how important it is to me
That no one else is doing my job.
My kids. My home.
We don’t live with family close by
So I love a little help
but not so much help that I feel like I should be doing something more…
distracted and displaced
more projects that aren’t necessary, or mine…
I want to talk about it all, but then someone will always say
‘You don’t understand though, some mums HAVE to go to work’
What they don’t know is that oh boy, do I understand.
My Nanna gave birth to my mum out of wedlock in the 1950’s, lived in Government housing, and worked since she was 15 years old— which was 1932 during World War 2.
My mum raised four children on her own, worked full time, double that, and then tried to get a night shift too.
So yes, I do understand.
I intentionally created my life so that it could be different for me.
I worked since the age of 13— bakery, supermarket, cold calling, door knocking, slicing cold meats, stuffing chickens, Subway.
Two degrees. All paid by me. The hardest studier you’d ever find.
I started a business in my early twenties, so I could retire my mum, and set myself up so that when my turn for motherhood came, I could rest into it.
so that financially, I never, ever needed a man
I’d never seen a woman be supported and held by a man, ever.
It was something I had to dig for.
Really dig for.
8 years with a loyal, loving man who wanted to give me everything…
And still I wanted to do it all myself.
When I say wanted to, I mean, it felt like the smartest thing to do.
Always be ready. Always be cared for by myself. Always be safe.
Society tells me that’s noble, correct, well done you for being progressive, independent, guarded.
Meanwhile inside I’ve hit every milestone, had all of the success and still long…
I long for the one thing women of our age have been taught to never, ever do…
Be able to fully rely on a man.
Be able to fully be at home.
Even as a creative, smart, capable, gifted woman like we all are…
Even as her.
Kids are little for such little time.
When I said yes to being their mother,
I said yes to letting parts of me die…
That doesn’t mean I stop writing, creating, taking care of my body
and serving my community.
I do those daily.
It means that there is no more tension inside.
Part of me wanting this, the other wanting that.
The centrepiece is firm.
The most primal part of my womb
This is the season for home.
Love Pk. X
PS. More personal and detailed entries and stories go out to paid subscribers. If you want to read (much) more deeply on this kinda convo, join me there. XX
I love this so much. And it resonates with every fiber of my being. The more I grow into motherhood and my marriage, the more I feel I just want to be home. With my kids. Supported by my beautiful man. What a beautiful privilege. I love home tending. This IS the season of home, indeed. Thank you for sharing, as always xxx
Love you so much. Couldn’t have a more similar experience. Xo