International mom of mystery
Why I don’t feel guilty going on $$$ trips without my family ✈️
In January 2020, I went on my first girl’s getaway trip since becoming a mom.
My friends Molly and Emalie were getting a beachside AirBNB in St. Marteen and they invited me to tag along.
I almost didn’t go. It was a big reach financially and emotionally, and I had a tough time getting over the guilty chatter in my brain telling me that this was an “indulgence” that I couldn’t really afford. I had a growing two-year-old. A start-up (which I was in the middle of raising money for). A partner. A limited budget. But I also *needed* space. Some time to step back and breathe. To untangle my family’s needs from my own. I mean…is that an “indulgence?”
I put off the decision whether to go about as long as possible…then decided last-minute to just book it.
On the third day of vacation, Molly, Emalie, and I went on a day-drinking catamaran trip. There were a handful of other groups who we small-talked with over rum punch before setting sail. “Hi there! Where are you from?” I started mingling with a retired, Boomer couple and mentioned that my husband and toddler were both back at home while I was away. They were floored. “You travel internationally without your husband? You’re so lucky he’s willing to babysit your daughter. What does he think about all this?”
It was a lot to unpack. And it was the first time I experienced people saying/implying to my face that I was selfish for leaving my family. That I shouldn’t be off drinking cocktails, barefoot on white sandy beaches, and laughing with my girlfriends while there were diapers to change and root vegetables to puree.
I was able to laugh it off, but they’d voiced questions I was already quite sensitive to: was it fair to leave my partner in the tundra to care for our kiddo while I escaped reality? Was it cool to leave, even just for 3 or 4 days, and abandon my responsibilities like work, bills, budgets, and actual human people counting on me?
Later, I’d realize that not only was it “cool” to leave my family for a a few days in search of respite, adventure, curiosity, relaxation, connection, laughter, and sleep…it was fucking necessary.
It was the escape I needed to put things in perspective. My worries about Abby and insecurities about Fruitful just could not compete with the sun, the sea, the pelicans playing peekaboo, and friends who know me, see me, and love me. I returned home with a renewed sense of calm and gratitude.
That 2020 trip to St. Marteen was one of the best vacations and best decisions of my life. The joy I felt and memories I made with my friends would go on to sustain me during that first year of the Covid-19 pandemic. It also helped me realize that I never again wanted to feel guilty about taking time or space for myself.
Since that trip, I’ve been on many other short vacations and adventures. Some with Brad. Some with friends. Some solo. I’ve pumped breastmilk at the Art Institute of Chicago, on a charter bus in Napa, and in the Belize airport. I’ve wandered around Rome and splurged on the good gelato. I’ve gone on a solo fall roadtrip to a cabin on Lake Superior.
A few weeks ago, I spent a long weekend in Turks + Caicos with my best friend from high school, Tina. We hadn’t seen each other in a year, and we’d suggested going on some kind of trip rather than trying to cram in a quick happy hour or dinner over the holidays…and I am SO GLAD we did.
We’re both moms of two daughters. We’re both married to workaholics. We’re both fucking exhausted. We got four full days together to just laugh, sleep, and reminisce about old jokes and crushes while making new memories and laughing at our stupid little travel quirks.
It was absolutely *heaven* DESPITE the fact that I was sick with the flu for 3/4 days. (Sidebar: If you HAVE to get sick while on vacation, might I recommend making sure you are with a girlfriend who is a natural caretaker and will venture off to get you all the Dayquil and cough drops and Gatorade you need? Shoutout to Tina who is an absolute angel sent from heaven).
I digress.
My point is that I spend considerable time and money prioritizing my own joy and mental health. And here’s the thing: I will no longer feel guilty for filling up my cup during a season of my life when I am *continuously* drained. Here is an abbreviated list as to whyyyyy I no longer feel guilty for traveling without my husband and/or kids*.
Why I no longer feel guilty for taking expensive, international trips without my family**:
It’s better to take a short break than have a massive breakdown. Motherhood is relentless. The constant needs and nagging will break even the most Mary Poppinsesque spirit. I love my kids and I love being their mom, but it’s also nonstop. I’m up twice a night (STILL!). I’m doing endless laundry. Vacuuming up crumbs forever. It’s sweet and silly and snuggly…and also, it can destroy your spirit, if you let it. That’s why short bursts of joy and freedom give me something to look forward to and keep me engaged. I’d rather take periodic breaks than have a complete mental breakdown…and those are kind of your two options.
I want to set an example for my daughters: their mental health matters. Growing up, I never saw my mother take one trip for herself. Not once. Sometimessssss she and my dad would go on a short getaway and we’d stay with grandparents. And sometimesssssss she’d drive up to New Jersey to visit her sister. But that was it. She NEVER went on trips or excursions just for herself. Never spent a night in a hotel room just for the room service and hot tub access. NOT ONCE. I want my daughters to see that adventures and vacations are for families and friends and couples and individuals. And that it makes us better, more well-rounded, dynamic, interesting, curious humans.
I’m not waiting until I’m retired to travel. YOLO for real. Who knows what’s gonna happen? My mom got breast cancer in her 40s, so yeah, I’m gonna go on that vacation to Italy NOW. I am not going to wait until my kids are grown and my lower back hurts even more to travel. Will I even live that long?
It’s good for everyone. I think a lie that moms often believe is that our kids are receiving sub-par care when we are not present. I just don’t think that’s true. Brad parents differently than I do, sure, but I think that’s a GOOD thing. In many ways he’s a far superior parent to me (this is a test to see if he reads my essays). But really, it’s positive for the kids to have different caretakers and babysitters…to see different types of routine and ways of doing things. I don’t leave them on the side of the road and I don’t hand them off to randos, but when they are with their dad or other trusted, loving family members or babysitters, I know they are being cared for. It’s gonna look different than how I would do it, and that’s GOOD for them. I’m not that great, anyway! I’m sure they could use a break from my nagging/shouting. When I leave for a bit, we all win!
NO ONE wins when they have a martyr as a mother. I believe that when we deny ourselves what we need, we’re actively building resentment in our relationships. When we withhold the care or time or attention that we require as human beings, we get mad and sad and hate begins to fester. Resentment-proofing my relationships is important to me, so I need to be honest and speak up about what I need to be the best human/wife/partner/mother/creative/employee/house manager/citizen I can be. Brad sees how I suffer when I don’t get breaks, and I see the same in him. That’s why I encourage his golf trips and fantasy football drafts. Go off! Wander! Find joy! Then come back home, please. And good lord, no strip clubs.
It feels good to miss each other. Turns out distance really does make the heart grow fonder. I always return from my time away with a renewed sense of calm and gratitude...gratitude for space, the ocean, my silly, sappy, snot-covered children, and my partner who supports my mental health and isn't threatened by my relationships or need for space. I come home so excited to hug my kids, smother them with kisses, and show them photos of my trips. It feels good to get space and then be reunited. Heaven is a cute little toddler hug.
I’m hopeful that some of the guilt, assumptions, and anxieties that parents have around taking solo or friend trips is generational and kind of going away. I know a lot of people who take trips independently from their partners…whether they go on solo hikes or boy’s golf trips or girl’s vacations…it just is way more common for our generation than for those of the past. Brad and I have always had a trusting and supportive relationship where we encourage one another and see the value in exploring the world and our friendships with other people…we like to travel together, too! But neither of us are threatened by one partner going away or doing something solo or with friends.
Anyway…if you’re looking for a permission slip to leave your family behind and go off on an adventure: here it is. Take the trip. Order the $19 piña colada. Ignore the judgey, over-opinionated Karens. Because a happy, tan, well-rested you is a hell of a lot better than a crispy, resentful one.
*If you’re thinking “Why doesn’t she travel WITH her husband and kids?” It’s because I tried that and it was awful. The work required is exponential and makes the experience a wash, IMHO. Maybe it’s different for you, and if so, that’s great! But for me, I think I’ll enjoy traveling with my family more once the girls are a smidge older. Fingers crossed!
**Caveat that this is - duh - a very privileged take. I’m in a position of privilege financially and also have access to reliable childcare/humans/community members who help my family. I also am married to a partner who values and prioritizes my mental health. I’m sure I’d feel differently about all of this if I did not have these privileges and I *know* I would find this shit annoying AF.