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

Third Child Party Favors: My favor to you was providing booze and grilled meats. Image: Thinkstock.

To My Third Son On His First Birthday: I'm Sorry

My first child’s milestones were elaborately marked, photographed, and celebrated with much fanfare... My third child however? Not so much. His first birthday was a much quieter affair — if it could be called an affair at all.

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I want my daughter to explore her interests and invest in herself.

I Don't Want My Daughter To Grow Up Like Me

Fortunately, when I look back at my childhood, it was mostly happy. I had parents who loved me. I had plenty of friends. I had access to food and shelter and education and more. Yet even with all my privilege, I don't want my daughter to have the same adolescence as me.

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Keep your pony power, baby. Don’t ever let it go.

Why I Won't Make My Daughter 'Play Nice'

It probably isn’t the sort of parenting moment that is supposed to make a mother proud — the hitting, growling, and otherwise uncivilized decorum... But I couldn’t help feeling a deep satisfaction with my daughter.

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Echo chambers of agreement aren't the real world.

The Danger Of Unfriending Your Racist Aunt

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

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What’s in a name? I don’t really know. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes everything. Image: NBC.

David Sedaris Named The Baby I Miscarried

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

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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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The road to the White House is paved for women because Hillary Clinton poured the pavement herself — while all around, rocks were thrown her way.

I Hope My Daughter Looks Up To Hillary Clinton — Even Though I Won't Vote For Her

She is the type of woman I hope my daughter looks up to, a successful feminist role model if there ever was any. She is strong in the face of adversity. She does not cower when criticized. She knows that her words and actions are powerful, and is not afraid of those who would call her bossy, grating, shrill, yelling — when all she is really doing is being a leader. It is powerful for a growing girl to watch a woman like that thrive.

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Our kids define so much of our existence — shouldn't we at least take a break when we get a chance and talk about something other than them? Image: Thinkstock.

Can We Please Stop Talking About Our Kids?

I don't want motherhood to be where my life begins and ends. Sure, we can still talk about our kids, commiserate, and share in one another's parenting accomplishments — but at some point, we need to be more than mere storytellers of our children's lives.

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Photo by Boxed Water Is Better on Unsplash

This Mother's Day Let's Stop Treating Emotional Labor Like Extra-Credit Work For Men 

...[M]en get a lot of praise for the “extra-credit work” they do in regards to domestic labor (the actual house cleaning and keeping work) and emotional labor (the invisible work that ensures the rest gets done) no matter what day of the year.

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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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