Gemma Hartley

Gemma Hartley

Bio

Gemma Hartley is a freelance writer with a BA in writing from The University of Nevada, Reno. She is author of FED UP: Emotional Labor, Women and The Way Forward. She lives in Reno with her husband, three young kids, an awesome dog, and a terrible cat.

Gemma Hartley Articles

I didn’t realize how crucial my late teens and early twenties were for forming deep and lasting female friendships to get me through the gritty parts of life. Image: Thinkstock.

The Things I Missed Out On Because I Got Married As A Teenager

I was constantly on the defense, prepared to fight for my young love against those who thought I wasn’t ready for marriage. It pains me to say it, but in a way, they were right after all. There were things I was missing out on by marrying young, things I didn’t even realize I was missing until it was too late.

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The real reason I’m worried about sending my kids to school is that I’m going to be alone.

All Of My Kids Are In School & I Don't Know How To Be Alone

The real reason I’m worried about sending my kids to school is that I’m going to be alone. For the first time in nearly a decade. And that’s scary.

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I wish that people understood that it’s never OK to comment on a mother’s age — young or old. Because the judgmental connotation is always there, no matter how innocent the intent.

Is It Ever Okay To Comment On A Mother's Age?

The insecurities about my age pushed me over the edge, making me work myself to the bone trying to be what I thought society would deem as a “good mom.” So I wish people understood that it’s never OK to comment on a mother’s age — young or old. Because the judgmental connotation is always there, no matter how innocent the intent.

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Photo by Volha Flaxeco on Unsplash

Cleaning Up After Your Husband Is Not A "Blessing"

Last week, the internet went into an understandable uproar when a Christian woman decided to take to Facebook to talk about how she is

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#CleaningGoals don't always translate so well into reality. (Image Credit: Gemma Hartley)

My Cleaning List Is A Thing Of Beauty, But My House Is A Hot Mess

If you were to walk into my house on any given day, you wouldn’t know that I am an efficient and organized person.

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I felt a strong need to rise to challenges, because I knew that my dad would expect nothing less from me. Image: Thinkstock.

My Dad Wouldn't Call Himself A Feminist, But I Would.

“Feminism” wasn’t a word I heard much growing up. When I did hear it, I equated it with a historical event, not a work in progress. I thought first-wave feminism was a one-and-done deal, and that all the work necessary for women’s equality had already been accomplished.

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Being skinny or fat or anything in between doesn’t determine whether or not someone should be happy. Image: Thinkstock.

Please Don't Call My Son 'Skinny'

We are often so focused on what we say to girls, that we forget the impact our words have on our boys. One flippant mention of my son’s “skinny” figure has turned into a source of unnecessary turmoil for him, and has lead to this difficult but important conversation about body image.

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"I realized that I enjoyed parenthood a whole lot more when I wasn't constantly complaining about it on the Internet."

What Happened When I Finally Quit Whining on Facebook 

You know that annoying friend who loves to vaguebook about the woes in her life or is always complaining on social media about how her kids are destroying her home and mental health? Super annoying, right? Well, that was me — every damn day, for years.

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Little ones are... A LOT of work. (Image Credit: Thinkstock)

Maybe I WON'T Miss These Years When They're Older

Despite endless exhortations to "enjoy every second," the reality of three toddlers is not always a Disney postcard. And it's okay for some moms to admit that they look forward to having a little less mess, a little more serenity.

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What’s in a name? I don’t really know. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes everything. Image: NBC.

David Sedaris Named The Baby I Miscarried

It wasn’t the name I would have picked — not originally, at least — but as days turned into weeks, it grew on me.

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