I have never considered myself a feminist. In fact, I’ve always been uncomfortable with even the notion of “feminism.” I’ve always found something so cliched about concepts such as “Women in Business” etc. This is not to say I’m under the impression that sexism or inequality does not exist in the world, but rather that it has never affected my own personal journey. I’ve thankfully never been discriminated against (at least to my own knowledge) because of my gender, in either my personal or professional life, and no recent event has triggered this particular musing but rather a gradual maturation.

My mother-in-law (I use this term loosely) is always telling me, “It’s a man’s world” and you know what, she’s right. Obviously we can’t really go around spouting statements like these as though they’re universal truths but yeah, in my experience, it is. The point I’m making is that maybe we’ve made it that way.

I love my partner with all my heart. I’d do absolutely anything for him, which i’m sure he knows.  *By the way, the intention of this piece is not to take away from how wonderful a person he is — but rather to reflect upon my actions since being with him and their connotations in a larger sense.* He is a deeply loving and caring person and would never usher me to the kitchen or expect me to do menial chores, and yet I naturally assume these domestic roles. Yes — this is arguably evolutionary but seriously, haven’t we evolved out of this yet? Man hunt. Woman cook. No – man and woman hunt so woman and man now cook.

I don’t think we’re quite there yet.

Having recently had a baby, I’ve since felt the immense pressure that comes along with motherhood. I relish the role – really I do – but some days, I just think “Wow, this is hard.” I myself am incredibly lucky; I have an unbelievably supportive network around me and I am never alone. But at the end of the day, the responsibility rests with the parents and arguably more so with mother.

I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.