In April, amid the early shelter-in-place orders, I finally transformed my home office into a dedicated workspace. For years, my desk had been crammed into a corner of what used to be a playroom/exercise area, with an elliptical behind me that my husband only used occasionally. Thankfully, this was before video calls became the norm, so my background didn’t matter too much. With both of my children finally in full-time school—so I thought—I was eager to claim this space as my own.
We disassembled the elliptical (a decision my husband would later rethink, especially with gym closures looming). I chose a soothing jade green for the walls, meant to spark creativity. We ripped out the worn carpet and laid down some squares we had saved from a renovation years ago. I surveyed my new office with pride, excited about the focus I would find there.
Unfortunately, just as the transformation was complete, I found myself out of work. Like many mothers across the country, I felt defeated. I realized that maintaining our previous routine during the pandemic was untenable. As a freelance writer, I had been working from home for nearly a decade, but juggling my writing with two elementary-aged kids in remote school proved to be an overwhelming challenge. Crafting sentences in brief twenty-minute intervals while managing technical difficulties was nearly impossible.
After submitting a manuscript in early May, I decided to pause my work until my children were less demanding. With summer approaching and all camps canceled, I figured it was the best course of action. I believed this would alleviate the tension between my husband and me regarding who could use the office space to work. Little did I know that my supposed sacrifice might worsen our situation.
When I paused my work, I assumed we would return to normal by August. However, as the months dragged on with no end in sight, I realized I had unwittingly signed up for an indefinite struggle. Initially, I thought I was struggling because my husband wasn’t pulling his weight. He didn’t seem to grasp how utterly drained I felt by day’s end, wanting nothing more than to retreat to my room with a book and some Netflix.
I love my children, but they can be exhausting, and the pandemic made it feel like there was no escape. I kept telling myself to hold on until the kids returned to school, which finally happened in November when they started attending in-person classes a few days a week. It felt like a miracle, especially knowing so many families weren’t as fortunate. Yet, those days only amounted to about fifteen hours a week, still leaving me to handle school responsibilities on other days.
I felt trapped in my own life while watching my husband head off to work. Sometimes, that simply meant walking into my home office and closing the door. I couldn’t help but feel resentment brewing within me; I had married a great guy who genuinely wanted to support me. He never expected me to take on the bulk of the parenting, yet I struggled nonetheless.
The pandemic isn’t just about the big challenges, like balancing work and parenting without breaks; the constant proximity to our partners can strain marriages. Daily annoyances that once felt minor began to loom larger, becoming sources of frustration as they remained in our line of sight. Without the usual distractions of daily life, these small grievances turned into mountains of resentment.
Unlike some, who find joy in the changes brought about by the pandemic, I felt overwhelmed. While my sister enjoyed having her husband home more often, I often felt exhausted from the day-to-day realities of parenting and partnership during this time.
We can’t just revert to our old habits; we need to learn new ways to navigate parenting and partnership to survive this ongoing uncertainty. There’s a growing acknowledgment that it’s okay to prioritize self-care during this time. My husband suggests I communicate my needs, but first, I must recognize them myself.
I’ve realized I need those fifteen minutes alone in my room, a walk outside, or a simple call to my husband asking him to come home early. It’s a challenge to break the habit of suppressing my needs for the sake of others.
If you’re feeling similar strains in your marriage during this unprecedented time, know that you’re certainly not alone. This doesn’t signal the end of your relationship; we all need a bit more grace right now. It’s crucial to create space for both yourself and your partner, as we navigate this unique situation together.
Ultimately, we’ll emerge from this pandemic. People will return to their workplaces, and we’ll be able to reclaim our time and passions. Until then, we must learn to take deep breaths, ask for what we need, and carve out moments of reprieve. My husband and I now have dedicated nights off to recharge, which has been transformative. I’ve also expressed my desire to return to work, recognizing that I must prioritize my own well-being.
As I sit here writing, it feels like one of the few things that remains right amidst the chaos.
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Summary
The pandemic has posed unique challenges for marriages, with many couples feeling overwhelmed by the constant proximity and strains of parenting. It’s essential to recognize personal needs and communicate openly with partners to navigate these times gracefully. Taking breaks and prioritizing self-care can help alleviate stress and improve relationships as we await a return to normalcy.