Parenting
Leanne found herself 300 miles away from home, relishing a night off from her husband and two teenage kids. “I’m just done being a wife,” she confessed over our first glass of pinot grigio as the music kicked in. “I’m exhausted from being a mom. I need a breather!” I completely understood where she was coming from.
Back when my husband was around, we’d laugh about how my favorite nights were those “Daddy-Daughter Date Nights.” Don’t even get me started on the bliss of a “Daddy-Daughter Weekend.” Pure heaven! I’d make no plans, crawl into bed, and not worry about dinner. It could be a salad, some cheese and crackers, or even a handful of chocolate chips. It didn’t matter because it was all about me. I’d dive into my guilty pleasure—Real Housewives of New York, New Jersey, or Beverly Hills. That was my time, melted chocolate on my fingers, hogging the remote, and enjoying the peace of having the bed to myself. No obligations, just pure nirvana.
But now that I’m a widow, those solitary nights don’t feel like the luxury they once did. Instead, boredom and loneliness creep in. I can’t count how many times I’ve listened to others complain about their partner being away for a night or two. They grumble about managing the household, the kids, and meals on their own, but at least it’s temporary. My husband is gone for good, so I often just nod along in those conversations.
Leanne was ecstatic that her husband was taking the kids for the weekend without her. “They all need that,” she said. “He should be more involved, and the kids need to bond with their dad.” Oh, how familiar that felt.
In my marriage, we had our roles figured out: I managed our child and the home chores—meals, doctor visits, school stuff—while Joel took care of the pets and outdoor responsibilities. He was a fantastic dad, actively involved and loving, yet I often felt like a single parent. I thought I was shouldering all the burdens, while he just walked the dogs!
Looking back, I realize how wrong I was. His mere presence was invaluable. Sure, I cooked, but he handled the dishes. I did the laundry, and he folded it. If our daughter had a rough day, Joel was always there to cheer her up. And every single morning, without fail, he took her to school and tucked her in at night, even when she was too old for it.
We were together for nearly two decades, and I know marriages have their highs and lows. To navigate those ups and downs, we built a foundation of love, trust, and respect—even when patience was thin and appreciation felt lacking. We gave each other space, which we both craved. If Joel were here today, I’d probably be rallying the “Girls’ Night Out” crew, and he’d be all for it.
Now, I find I don’t have the same urge to escape. When I do get rare free time, I want to share it with my boyfriend, Mark. Our relationship is still fresh, and while I try not to be jaded, I can’t help but think that someday, I might want to skip some of his gigs and stay home for a night of bad TV. Maybe I’ll even take a road trip with a friend, just because she asks.
That seems hard to imagine right now, as we’re so wrapped up in each other. But I know that healthy relationships thrive on a little distance, which is why Leanne poured herself another glass of pinot before dancing her heart out.
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Summary
This article explores the feelings of exhaustion and the need for space that many mothers experience. Through the lens of a widow, it discusses the importance of partnerships and the balance of responsibilities in relationships, emphasizing the value of personal time and the need for space in a healthy relationship.