I feel like I’ve spent most of my life listening to men complain about how their wives “do nothing” or are “lazy.” Maybe that says something about my family being a little dysfunctional—but that’s a story for another day. Growing up, it always seemed to be the first weapon many men in my family reached for when they were angry or frustrated with their wives. Hearing them gripe about supporting stay-at-home wives terrified me. It made me deeply afraid of ever becoming one myself. I never wanted to give someone that kind of power over me. I never wanted a man to be able to look at me and say things like:
“Oh, you’re mad because I spent money? Maybe you should go out and get a job.”
“I fell in love with a career woman. I’m just not attracted to you now that you’re not working. You’re unmotivated, blah, blah, blah.”
“If we ever divorce, you don’t deserve to take any of my money.”
Because of that fear, I convinced myself that even if I had children, I would do whatever it took to keep working. Even though my husband is a genuinely good man, I still didn’t want to allow myself to be that vulnerable. When I became pregnant for the first time, I repeatedly told myself I would put my son in daycare. But if I’m being honest, it wasn’t my love for being a career woman that fueled that decision—it was my fear of being mocked, belittled, or talked down to for choosing to stay home instead of earning a paycheck. The truth is, the moment my son was born, all I wanted was to never leave his side.
I cried when I finally asked my husband if I could stay home with our son. I had rehearsed the conversation a hundred times. I told him I couldn’t imagine leaving Jack. I promised I would cook him lunch every day, keep the house clean, and do whatever it took so I wouldn’t be a burden on our family. After my emotional monologue ended, he gently told me he didn’t want me to go back to work either. He believed it was important for me to be with Jack while he was young. In that moment, it felt like a massive weight was lifted off my shoulders. Since then, he has never once made me feel like staying home makes me any less of a contributor. He is not like many of the men I grew up around—and I am endlessly grateful for that.
Even so, every now and then, fear still creeps in. I worry that one day he’ll stop saying “our” money and start saying “his” money. I get anxious that he’ll stop finding me attractive because I don’t have a so-called “real job.” I’m scared history will repeat itself, and that resentment will grow the way I watched it grow in so many marriages around me.
When those thoughts take over, I remind myself of three important truths.
First, being a mother is a job. I’ve worked outside the home, and I’ve also been a mother—and becoming a mom was far harder than entering the workforce. When I had a job, I still had quiet moments to myself at the end of the day. Now, there are very few moments when a child isn’t physically attached to me. Even when Kyle gets home from work, Jack stays glued to me because I’m his source of food and comfort. I shouldn’t feel guilty for asking for a break or spending money on myself. I work hard, too.
Second, men who say cruel things about their wives usually have bigger problems. As I got older, I began to notice that many of the men who complained about their wives staying home were already struggling in their marriages. I’ve watched situations where the wife did eventually get a job—and the marriage still fell apart. That showed me the real issue was never whether the mother stayed home. Calling a wife “lazy” or claiming ownership over family money is often just the easiest way to hurt someone in the heat of the moment. I’ve made a conscious decision not to measure my worth by the bitterness of unhappy people.
Third—and most importantly—I am happier than I’ve ever been. Moms.com once published an article asking men how they felt about women who stay home. One anonymous man said he thought stay-at-home moms were “parasitic” and that their lifestyle was subsidized by a partner who had to work longer and harder. I won’t lie—comments like that sting. They always will. Does he know I wake up earlier than my husband every single day? Does he know I get up three times a night to feed our baby, so I’m perpetually exhausted? Does he know how many times I’ve walked my crying baby around the neighborhood so my husband can focus during work meetings?
Sometimes, reading things like that discourages me deeply. But despite the exhaustion, this season of life is the happiest I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t trade this time with my son for anything in the world. Will some people think I’m lazy for staying home? Absolutely. But I’m choosing not to give their opinions power. At the end of the day, if my husband and I are at peace with this decision, that’s all that matters.
And to all the stay-at-home moms who wrestle with these same fears—I see you. I feel you. No matter what anyone says, you are doing an incredible job. Keep holding your babies close, soaking in these moments, and let the haters talk.
