I am a housewife and mother. It took me a long time to accept that. I never expected that. A working mother - I thought that would be me.
Month after month, I was looking for a suitable half-time job. But as fate would have it, I found none.
So I came to the point where I had to settle for my role - otherwise, I would have gone crazy at some point.
When I told my closest friends that I would stay a housewife, I felt ashamed. Because they were very successful in their jobs. They managed to get work and motherhood under one roof. I felt inferior - as if I was going the easy way.
I felt that I no longer belonged to their tribe and had no right to complain when I felt tired or lonely.
Because I stay at home and my partner financially supports me, I thought that I had to hide my feelings. That I should be thankful that I can spend time with my child - without even having to work.
One of my friends pointed out to me, "Why should you be ashamed? Most of our mothers did not work until we were in elementary school - nobody was worried about that either. "
She had an incredibly good point. I started to ask myself questions. "Was the generation of our parents the last generation, when it was still possible for a parent to stay home? Was it due to the cost of living, the contested real estate market or the fact that there were no flexible part-time jobs back then? "
I tried for a long time to find a job. Nevertheless, I was overlooked again and again.
I felt that at this time I had no choice but to remain a housewife. I have found a permanent freelance writer job, which is fantastic. But that's not enough to call me a "working mother."
The thing is: I love to work. I have always enjoyed my job as a bank employee. I found it enriching. But I also love being a housewife.
I lead a busy life. My son has an incredible amount of energy and is very active. We go outside twice a day. On playgrounds, in the music class, in an early education class and a toddler group. I read him countless books. I try to teach him to cook.
I'm not in my pajamas on the couch, watching TV and stuffing chocolate into me.
I am a busy housewife and mother. It's a full-time job. I know that someone else would take good care of my son if I had to work. It's not like he's staring at the wall in any room.
But there is this prejudice that parents who stay at home have a simple life. You have to do the housework and in the evening have a perfect dinner on the table.
So why do you have to complain? We can be happy that we can experience so many beautiful moments with our children at home and create shared memories!
But that is far from reality. Yes, of course, there are beautiful moments. But it's also a hell of a lot of work. It is physically and emotionally exhausting.
I have back pain all the time because I drag my toddler everywhere. The tantrums that I have to deal with our madness. It's hard to go out to spa and relax with a toddler, so I have a MB4 massage recliner which my fellow blogger Smyrna recommended me and use it when my toddler is sleeping. It helps a lot to release my tension and soothe my body.
I am bored with having to read the same book over and over again and continuously dealing with a small human whose will is more rigid than iron.
I am tired all the time. It is incredibly enriching, yes. But that's how many people feel about working!
Because of the prejudice that housewives supposedly have it so easy, it feels to me that I do not have the right to talk about these difficulties honestly.
As if I had decided to stay at home and now have to cope with it. But we should not judge so quickly. Because we do not know if a parent's homestay was a voluntary choice for the family.
I want to emphasize that none of my friends or my husband ever made me feel inferior because I stay home. Everyone supported me incredibly.
I admire other housewives and mothers and have always done so. My fears and feelings have been imposed on myself.
I hope that I will soon feel better in my role - when more time has passed.
I have to find the balance between my roles as a housewife and mother and myself as a successful woman. Ultimately, success can not be measured only regarding achievements at work.
I succeed because my son is self-confident, lively and loving.
I am successful because I have found out that I am an excellent author.
I am successful because I am active and healthy and strive to be a part of society.
I am successful because my home is clean, inviting and full of love.