Gemma Hartley

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.

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

My six-year-old son got into the car after school and declared he only wanted to have one kid when he grew up.

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

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.

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.

My mother called me the morning after the

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.

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

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.