"Don't you have a wife in there?"

I've had two major identity crisis' in my life.

The first was in the months leading up to my wedding. The second, when I fell pregnant.

I've always had a paralysing fear of losing myself in something. In a relationship, in a job. In high school, I was unwaveringly authentic. I was so headstrong in who I was and what I believed it could easily have been mistaken for arrogance or narcissism. Neither were true, I was just raised to be confident in myself and fight for what I believed in. As I got older, I softened some. Leaving behind some of my rigidity in favour of opening myself up to other perspectives. When you're a kid, your world is so tiny that it really is easy to make up your mind and stick to it. When you become an adult and realise the world is much bigger than that little box you have always lived in and life starts to get complicated.

I started to feel myself shift and mould to suit what others needed me to be more and more. To get that guy to like me, to get that promotion, to fit in. You tell yourself that it's fine. You're not actually changing, you're just doing what you need to do to get ahead in the world of the grown ups.

I'm not sure why the thought of becoming someone's wife triggered something inside me. But it felt like the first major step away from being myself and into something that existed entirely for someone else. Why did I have to give up my name? That part took a lot to wrap my head around.

With some counselling and a very patient, and supportive future husband. I worked through my anxieties and had a beautiful wedding, and much to my pleasant surprise, nothing really changed, at least between the two of us. So I had a new last name? Big deal. I'm still me, right?

The same phenomenon occurred when I found out I was pregnant. Only, it was in overdrive. Wait, so now not only am I going to be someone's wife, but also someone's mother?

It seemed like I was stepping further and further away from myself. I was terrified that was all I was ever going to be seen as by anyone ever again. My daughter is almost one now, and some days I still really struggle and I expect to for some time. The whole housewife/stay at home mum thing was never really the dream.

Now, I’m lucky enough to have a husband who is also a top Dad. Like, a really, really wonderful father. He shares the toddler load amazingly.

As a result of that he finds himself often fighting an uphill battle with other members of the patriarchy.

If you’re anything like me, as a stay at home mum you still live for the weekends much in the same way you did when working. Two whole days with another set of hands around, going to the toilet on my own, a shower long enough to wash my hair and shave my legs, hot coffee, family time, alone time…. it’s the best. So when those necessary times come up when something just HAS to be done that makes Dad unavailable all week AND all weekend, I get a little overwhelmed.

Recently I experienced one of those weekends. But I made sure I had plans. We were out of the house all day Saturday so the men could get on with their men things uninterrupted. I still played hostess and made sure there was hospitality for our guests, because that’s what you do right?

The idea was thrown out to go out for a meal on Saturday night, so we agreed to an early one because who really wants to take a one year old to a restaurant?

By about 3pm I knew it was 100% not going to happen. We’d had a huge day out, she was tired, I was tired and she was going to be down for the count by 6:30 at the latest. So I suggested that they move the booking to later after bedtime and they could just go for a meal and a few beers after a hard days work and I would stay home with the toddler. No problem.

Cue it being 5:30 and no sign of pack up on the job so I ask my husband to please come in and shower and do bath time so I can eat some dinner and have a shower myself before everyone heads out. Obviously I get zero argument from hubby because he’s a legend. But he is also feeling guilty that the others haven’t followed suit and packed up too.

When he says as much to the other men, the response he is met with is this:

“Don’t you have a wife in there?”

And with that one comment I am reduced to nothing. I’m not a human being with my own thoughts or feelings. I am someone’s wife. And someone’s mum. And I am not doing my job well enough because I asked Dad to take the baby for one hour so I could eat, get clean, tidy up and maybe steal 5 minutes to myself.

The worst part? At first I brushed it off. What a load of crap. Then the doubt and guilt starts to creep in. Maybe I’m really not doing a good enough job here. Maybe I should be able to soldier on and not ask for help. I did the wrong thing. I’m a bad wife and mother…

I see-sawed on it for a few days, going between knowing I wasn’t asking too much and then feeling guilty again.

I guess the age old moral to the story is that words can hurt. And you can’t undo the damage that comes from thoughtlessness.

I am a human being. I have needs and wants and thoughts and feelings that are valid. That didn’t change the day I said I do, or the day I gave birth. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

If you've ever found yourself thinking that a woman isn't "doing her duty" well enough when she takes some time for herself or asks for help. Please remember that before she was someone's wife, or someone's mother. She was just a girl, who wanted the same things from life as everyone else, and she still deserves them.