For eight years, I’ve been a stay-at-home mum. Not exactly because it was my lifelong ambitionto be honest, circumstances just conspired against me. I have two children, a husband who works all hours, and a house that never stays clean for longer than five minutes. Every morning, my alarm goes off at 5:30am. By the time anyone else stirs, Ive already fixed breakfast.
By seven oclock, Ive washed the dishes, swept the sitting room, made the beds, and halfway sorted out lunch. When my husband heads out the door, he says, Just relax at home today. As if staying at home is some sort of spa retreat. The moment he leaves, my second shift begins: laundry, mopping the floors, scrubbing the bathroom, picking up toys, nipping to the shops, and collecting the kids from school.
Once the kids come back, forget any chance of peace. Theres homework, afternoon snacks, sibling bickering, shouting, yet more dirty clothes. Meanwhile, my husband strolls in, knackered, and plonks himself down in front of his phone. If I ask for a hand, he says, Ive been working all day. One time I replied, So have I. He got a bit crossclaimed I was exaggerating and said I didn’t know the meaning of real fatigue.
One day, I told him I wanted to go back to work. I want to earn my own money, get out of the house, and feel useful for something besides hoovering. His response? Wholl look after the kids? Why did I even marry you then? Thats just selfish. His mum chimed in as well, informing me a decent wife stays home.
I started to feel invisible. No one asks how Im doing. No one says thank you. If dinners a bit saltycomplaints. If the house is untidyits my fault. If the kids come home with rubbish marksguess whos to blame? Everything lands on me.
One night, I finally snapped. I was scrubbing dishes at ten, aching all over, when I heard my husband telling someone on the phone, My wife doesnt work, she just stays at home. I dropped a plate into the sink and just burst into tears.
Im tired now. Tired of working without a wage, without hours, without so much as a pat on the back. Tired of feeling locked in, boxed up between four walls. Tired of being just a housewife.
And honestly, Ive no idea what to do next. Should I just grin and bear it? Should I put my foot down? Should I hunt for a job, even if it turns my marriage upside down?
So tell medo you reckon the housewifes life is a privilege, or is it just a burden nobody wants to acknowledge?
