Gemma Hartley

I want and need to save some room for myself, to know that I am worthy of a place in the world without the label of mother.

My mother called me the morning after the

The money is great, but it is not the best part of becoming a working mom. Having my own career has shifted the power balance of my relationship.

Mom friends were the ones to whom you were supposed to spill all those dark parenting thoughts. I wanted that mom-magic. I knew it was out there somewhere.

I know it won't be long until he can read the headlines before I can bury the truth. He will learn to read, and then to suffer. Words will haunt him.

Starting a new year makes me look toward the future, looking at all the choices that lay ahead of me. But it also nudges me to examine my past in a very certain way. It's the time of year I always find myself thinking about the choices I didn’t make — about the life I didn't live.

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

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

Making friends as a grown woman is hard. I figured out a few tips on how to set up successful one-on-one friend dates, as well as how to handle the territory of a budding platonic relationship with another woman.

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.