I choose to be happy.
I wanted them to grow up. I wanted to be able to do what I wanted to do.
I wanted the freedom again.
Now they’re gone.
I still have a shot, a glimmering chance of hope breaking on the horizon.
They’re still at home, they’re still young.
You do the best you can with what you’ve got but it’s never enough.
You’re a bad mom if you don’t stay at home with your kids. You’re a useless member of society if you don’t have any legitimate work history during your time at home with your kids.
If you stay at home and your partner leaves you, you’re fucked.
If you don’t earn more than your partner, you’re the one “stuck” at home, no matter how ambitious you are.
You can give up or you can suck it up.
Either way you’re left with a looming cloud of guilt.
Guilt you saddle, guilt your partner [unintentionally] lays upon you, guilt from your peers, guilt…
I choose to suck it up and say, “Fuck it all.”
I’m a great mom. I’m ambitious. I’m aggressive and forward and inappropriate and angry.
Mom. Wife. Daughter. Sister.
Fuck your guilt trips.
You do you, I’ll be me.
Because I choose to be happy.