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

Sure, I could probably use a few new life-hacks, but if I can figure out how to love my life in 2017, that will be more than enough.

A Better New Year's Resolution

My resolutions regularly remind me that I don’t think I am enough, just as I am. So this year, instead of focusing on habit changes, I'm more concerned with changing my perspective.

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I’m here to fight the patriarchy too.

My Traditional Lifestyle Doesn't Make Me Less Of A Feminist

When I was a teenager, I felt very certain that I was not a feminist. I didn’t exactly understand the textbook definition of feminism, but I had a pretty good sense from the negative connotation I had gleaned while growing up in a narrowly Christian setting.

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What you really need out the gate isn’t a “mom tribe.” You simply need a tribe. Period. Image: Joni Edelman.

Why I Gave Up On Making 'Mom' Friends

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.

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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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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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How do you make the leap to ask out a potential friend? (Image: Unsplash/ Eli DeFaria)

5 Tips For Making Grown-Up Friends 

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.

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Of COURSE I give her Vitamin D drops...

I'm The Mom Who Lies To The Pediatrician

I spent the better part of two years a frazzled mess over things that ultimately didn’t matter. My child was still growing up perfectly normal, even when he didn’t follow the straight and narrow path set forth by his pediatrician. I was driving myself over the edge for nothing.

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I wasn’t simply an accessory to misogynistic behavior — I was actively participating in it. Image: Thinkstock.

'One Of The Guys': On Cool Girls And Internalized Misogyny

I felt unique in my passion for martial arts, my affinity for Call of Duty, my go-with-the-flow attitude toward boyish adventures. I wanted to be “one of the guys,” while still retaining the distinction of my sexuality. I longed to be the quintessential cool girl — desirable yet approachable. But in retrospect, all that really amounted to internalized misogyny.

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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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