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

There is no one who would go to the same lengths to make me smile.

My Mom Will Always Be My Valentine

A breakup, Mom, a cheerleading competition, and Valentine's Day...

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Even though I’m ready to let go the baby weight, the baby weight isn’t ready to let go of me.

I'm Finally Ready To Lose The Baby Weight

To be honest, it’s exhausting, and I am ready to shed this pesky baby weight once and for all. I mean that literally.

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Not giving in to the stereotype of "hysterical liberal" is a slap back at online trolls looking for a reaction.

Why I'm Choosing To Fight Fascism With Facts

Like many progressives, the early days of Trump's presidency have left me angry, exhausted, and fighting with strangers on Facebook.

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I had never had a problem with loving myself, until now. (Image: Thinkstock)

I Am Body Positive, Just Not When It Comes To Myself

But I was yet to face the cold, hard fact that my lack of acceptance for my own body, was really a lack of acceptance for all the bodies I had falsely embraced for so long. Could I really love someone else’s ample stomach, when I could not love my own?

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Being a Supermom isn't worth losing a spouse (Image Credit: Thinkstock)

I Gave Up Being A Supermom To Be A Better Wife

When my son was a baby, I used my husband as a second set of hands. He was my co-parent, the other caretaker... I was no longer viewing him as my partner, but rather as an aide to attaining the next level of mothering. Even though my husband never called me out on my behavior, I slowly but surely hung up my need for perfection. Because if being a great mother means being a crappy wife, I don't want any part of it.

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I had no belief that my babies were in heaven, nor that they would ever be born into this world.

I Don't Believe My Babies Are In Heaven

I had a lot of well-meaning friends and family searching for the right words to say after my back-to-back miscarriages. So many offered solace by guessing at where my lost babies resided in the ether: taken away to Heaven, perhaps forever, perhaps waiting for a better moment— an unknown, destined time these small souls were meant to break into the world. I accepted these comments silently, because they did nothing to comfort me.

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Our kids define so much of our existence — shouldn't we at least take a break when we get a chance and talk about something other than them? Image: Thinkstock.

Can We Please Stop Talking About Our Kids?

I don't want motherhood to be where my life begins and ends. Sure, we can still talk about our kids, commiserate, and share in one another's parenting accomplishments — but at some point, we need to be more than mere storytellers of our children's lives.

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I want my daughter to explore her interests and invest in herself.

I Don't Want My Daughter To Grow Up Like Me

Fortunately, when I look back at my childhood, it was mostly happy. I had parents who loved me. I had plenty of friends. I had access to food and shelter and education and more. Yet even with all my privilege, I don't want my daughter to have the same adolescence as me.

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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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image credit: Gemma Hartley

"Leave Room For Jesus:" Does Purity Culture Devalue Girls?

At Santa Rosa Christian School, dancing was a gateway drug. The gyrating, the slow romantic swaying...

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