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 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 Children Cannot Have All Of Me

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.

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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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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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image credit: Thinkstock

Me, My Parents, Fox News, And A Screaming Match — Being An Adult Is Complicated

Becoming an adult didn’t magically open me up to their world and their psyche as I thought it would. Even having children of my own did little to unravel the mystery of my parents, because I wasn’t really interested in exploring honestly. I have always been concerned with who my parents were in relation to me, not who they were on their own.

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The point is, if you feel like you're sucking at the back-to-school transition, take heart. I am out here doing way way worse.

It's Only The 2nd Week Of School & I'm Already Falling Apart

Clearly, it does not take long for my over-ambition to turn me from a vision of perfection into a train wreck you can't look away from. Behold, my first week of school splendor, versus my second week of school ineptitude.

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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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It was a thrilling feeling to wake up in the morning without a child inches from my face asking for a bowl of cereal at 6:00 a.m., to eat breakfast I hadn’t prepared, to have only my own needs to meet.

I'm Not A Mother When I Travel Alone

Travelling solo for the first time allowed me to regain my sense of self outside of motherhood. It showed me that I could still be a whole and interesting person without using my kids as my stand-in.

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The Emotional Cost Of Shelving Your Dreams

I am sometimes painfully envious of other (usually childless) writers who are doing the very thing I swore I would have done by now — publishing a novel.

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She likes princesses, but she is not defined by them. Image: Gemma Hartley.

Can We Please Stop Hating On Princesses?

Feminism should empower all girls — not just those who buck the system. Do I have my preference for what I would like her to do? Yes, but what I envision for her isn’t as important as what brings her joy and helps her find fulfillment.

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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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