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

#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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image credit: Joni Edelman

I Don't Want My Daughter To Be A "Bad Eater"

I wonder because I think I'm making the same mistakes with my daughter. She hardly eats. She's very picky. I feel like food is a constant struggle between us. I also feel like it's all my fault.

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(Image: publicdomainpictures.net)

The Reasons Why I Don't Want My Son To Learn To Read

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.

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When does being a grown-up happen again?

10 Things I Thought I'd Know How To Do By Now

To be honest, I consider myself pretty damn good at adulting. I’m a great cook, as long as I have a recipe. I’m a self-taught professional baker.

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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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Again and again I refuse to prioritize, refuse to let anything slide, at the expense of my physical and mental health.

Why Is It So Hard To Go Easy On Myself?

Again and again I refuse to prioritize, refuse to let anything slide, at the expense of my physical and mental health.

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Third Child Party Favors: My favor to you was providing booze and grilled meats. Image: Thinkstock.

To My Third Son On His First Birthday: I'm Sorry

My first child’s milestones were elaborately marked, photographed, and celebrated with much fanfare... My third child however? Not so much. His first birthday was a much quieter affair — if it could be called an affair at all.

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Echo chambers of agreement aren't the real world.

The Danger Of Unfriending Your Racist Aunt

I hate some of the things I see my friends and family post on Facebook.

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Ignoring rules to just get on with it already doesn't work out so well when they get older... (Image Credit: Unsplash/Zivile& Arunas)

I Wish I Had Never 'Let' My Kid Win

When my son was little, I used to let him win board games a lot.

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