I was suspicious, even cynical, about what the world insisted was vital to the life of my unborn child. I was partly sceptical because so much of the advice I was getting was contradictory. But I was also suspicious because I'd spent most of my 20s reading Nietzsche. Nietzsche is not, perhaps, a natural choice for a young mother. But he helps to fuel certain questions about values, and purpose, that are central to questions of care.
I probably thought about it the most before I went to rehab aged 25. Because I felt I'd lived an entire life then. I was so lost and I was trying everything - trying a bit of a job, a bit of a drug. I went through tonnes of friendship groups and people. I was so discombobulated and I felt my oldest then.
In my head you live another life Where you f*ck all my friends And wish someone else could've been your wife I love you, I love you I'm sorry, I'm sorry For letting it get the best of me again I'm too emotional, I guess When I look at that body I'm not trus
Protagonist Edna Pontellier, heartbroken and hopeless, swims out into the Gulf of Mexico until her body tires and the water swallows her up. The act is impossibly sad, but it also feels as if it's not about itself. Or rather, it expresses something about the act, choice, of suicide that so often remains out of focus: how hard our world is to live in.
"It didn't exactly go over well. Some of the others tried to smooth things over. One sent flowers, then ignored me when I thanked her for them. Another tried to convince me that everyone assumed I'd been invited to gatherings and just hadn't shown up."
Leaving my hometown was another part of my letting go of my daughter, a process I began the day that I put her in the arms of her new parents. Seeing 6-month-old Hanna reach for her adoptive mother had helped to convince me that everything was as it should be - as it was supposed to be. Our connection had been severed. It was time for me to move on. We were now both free to live the rest of our lives.
A link soon followed for When Calls the Heart - a Hallmark period drama set in the early 1900s about a wealthy young teacher who leaves her comfortable city life to lead a school in a coal-mining town called Hope Valley. If you'd asked me a decade ago whether I'd still be invested in the show today, I would not have guessed yes. But my sister obviously sensed there was something inside of this wholesome Hallmark series that would hook me, and she was right.
Last week, someone asked me, "Did you always want to be a mom?" My instinct was to say yes - but then I paused. Sitting on the floor with my 15-month-old daughter, I realized I'd never actually asked myself that question before. I'd always imagined what kind of mother I'd be, but not whether I wanted to become one. Motherhood, I would soon learn, has a way of undoing everything you think you know about yourself.
What ultimately brought Oona Chaplin, 39, and James Cameron together was something very different from the glitz of premieres, red carpets, or the machinery surrounding a blockbuster like Avatar. Or perhaps not so different, considering the unmistakable environmental message of the highest-grossing film franchise in history. We talked for about 40 minutes about the earth, says the Spanish actress over a video call. I told him I was living in a treehouse and starting a permaculture project with a friend.
The night before the Thanksgiving holiday, I received a message that I was being let go from my job, leaving me reeling in shock and tears, as I faced a holiday season with five kids and no stable income. As a freelancer, I'm somewhat used to instability in my work, but as my writing jobs have slowly vanished over the course of the past year, having my last contract gig taken away really stung.
I'mma keep them because I like them. Not all the time. Because sometimes I'm like, 'Oh, girl, you are not 24.' But you're f-king right. Oh my God. Am I admitting that I'm not 24? You're right. I'm not 24. I'm 33 years old, and this is how my face looks.
Mom worked for almost two decades after her divorce, but could not financially make up for the years she spent as a housewife. The low-paying jobs she had while married - cleaner, waitress, and such - counteracted her higher income as an administrative assistant. She ended up grossing $575.00 a month from social security, despite the fact that she could have drawn against my father's social security allotment for more than double that amount.
2000-2003: The next Harry Potter book didn't come out for three years. 2022: Right after he was born, my son decided he would never sit in a stroller or a car seat. What is something you had to learn the hard way? Life doesn't pause for anyone. In the past few years, I've started three companies, moved homes and had two babies. There's no perfect moment, just a lot of juggling.
It was 1991, I was in my early 40s, living in the south of England and trapped in a marriage that had long since curdled into something quietly suffocating. My husband had become controlling, first with money, then with almost everything else: what I wore, who I saw, what I said. It crept up so slowly that I didn't quite realise what was happening.
"Perspective is a huge thing. The smaller things in life are so much more precious. Our days are filled with lots of cuddles and laughter and love. It's just endless joy."
As I chuckled at my son and his friends, I thought about how I jumped through so many hoops and skirted around perceptions of modern motherhood so I could live the life I envisioned and built my work around it. This meant being home with my kids when they were little and eventually, taking advantage of the privilege to work remotely, something not all women have.
In today's era, where beauty typically demands doing the most, it's liberating to opt out occasionally, even if it's just one thing. My FYP was a shrine to chrome hues, 3D and rhinestone designs, aura nails, and more - all of which I'd screenshot to show my tech. People rarely saw me without colorful, intricate tips; they were a source of social-media likes and IRL compliments. Birthday nails were a thing. Wedding nails, too (pastel tie-dye, in case you were wondering).
