Death Of The Stay-At-Home Mom

When did my job become taboo?

Photo by Joshua Harris on Unsplash

I want to say I’m proud to be a stay-at-home mom.

But… I’m not sure that I am.

I’m not sure that the world wants me to be.

Sure, my husband is proud of me and the kids appreciate the constant cooking and cleaning I do to keep them alive and not covered under a pile of their clean and ‘not so clean’ laundry. I think.

But the truth is — when people ask me what I do, I often look down before answering.

It’s not intentional, but I do.

The question “So, what do you do?” terrifies me.

The fear of judgment I feel can be likened to a recently paroled person during a job interview. My apprehension to answering a simple question often sends me into fight or flight mode.

After I tell them, will they like me, hate me, still respect me?

So, as the story goes, I put on a bright, bubbly smile and roll my shoulders back to look a little taller while answering and say, “I’m a stay-at-home mom.” Chin up as mother always said. These rituals — now clear to me after a decade, serve as my emotional armor, shielding me against the stereotypes and ache for acceptance that accompanies my role of being a stay-at-home mom. Coping mechanisms…