It wasn’t just my postpartum depression influencing my feelings; I was genuinely isolated, profoundly lonely, and often felt invisible. Any new stay-at-home parent with mental health struggles might echo this sentiment, but where was the proof? Could anyone validate my experience? After all, didn’t most people seem to lead similar lives? They went to work, interacted with colleagues, and spent their days in offices. They didn’t share deep conversations or explore emotional highs and lows, right? This was particularly true for men, who often had limited social support and returned to the office while their partners remained at home.
Back in 2016, I often felt that my situation wasn’t particularly unique. I could—and did—go weeks without speaking to another adult. My schedule revolved around nursing, napping every couple of hours, pumping, and the general chaos of household tasks. My world felt quite small.
“I only go to work, I don’t talk to anyone about my life, I’m lonely. Going to work is not social interaction,” my partner, Mark, stated.
“You don’t need to be friends to interact with people. They use their voices to speak with you,” I countered. “They even look at you while doing it.”
“This isn’t a luxury; it’s not me living a life you don’t have. We’re all lonely, we’re all alone,” he replied.
Yes, you are alone, but you aren’t isolated. There’s a significant difference.
Fast forward to 2019: I was now a stay-at-home mom of two, still feeling isolated, though I had fewer severe mental health issues than in 2016. I couldn’t see friends or leave the house much, a reality that became even more pronounced with a toddler and an infant. This was my normal until the pandemic hit, which imposed isolation on everyone, not just me.
Mark, who had previously left me alone with our newborn while I battled postpartum depression, was now among those ordered to stay home by his employer. And, surprisingly, he thrived. He spent more time with our children and even with me! He managed to complete his work while being present for us. It felt extraordinary at first.
Then, one day, things shifted. Mark expressed that he enjoyed working from home but found it challenging. When I asked why, he uttered words that struck a chord with me. He admitted he felt isolated, missed social interactions, and longed for the company of his coworkers. He yearned for those brief yet meaningful encounters that make us feel connected—like laughter, eye contact, and shared moments.
In that moment, he finally understood what I had been trying to convey since 2016. I burst into tears and, without thinking, exclaimed, “Exactly! This is what I’ve been saying for the past four years!”
Self-isolation became a common experience for many only a few months ago, yet for countless others, it has been a long-standing reality. You don’t need to be in quarantine to feel isolated. You don’t require the acknowledgment of society or cultural shifts to validate your experiences. If you’ve felt this way before—just without the disinfectants—I see you, and I understand how this adds another layer to what you’ve already endured.
Some might argue that what stay-at-home parents experience isn’t true isolation and that everyone feels disconnected at times. While I acknowledge there’s some truth to this, it overlooks the unique challenges of being physically confined within four walls, day after day.
Finally, Mark understands my experience. For further reading on this topic, you can check out this article, or explore this resource for expert insights. For additional resources on infertility and related topics, consider visiting WomensHealth.gov.
In summary, the pandemic brought a new understanding to my partner about the isolation I’ve faced as a stay-at-home parent. It illuminated the differences between merely feeling lonely and being genuinely isolated, a distinction many may overlook.
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