Over the weekend I read a term that I have always talked (and often griped about) about, but never had a true name for it. The term is “emotional labor.” And “emotional labor” is something that we women, in particular, tend to take on, in our roles as wife/partner/mother/daughter/sibling/friend. It often comes under the heading of “thoughtfulness”, but it was refreshing for me to finally see it listed as “labor” because frankly, emotional labor can be every bit as exhausting as the physical labor of chores around the house, and yet it is “hidden” and often underappreciated.
When our family was younger, I was fortunate that my husband was always more than willing to lend a helping hand with the household duties, even though he was/is the primary breadwinner and I was/is the stay-at-home parent. My husband was, and is, really helpful and useful around the house. My biggest complaint when raising our four young children, was always more one of pure mental exhaustion. I often would say, “I wish that someone would just hand me a to-do list that I could just do, without having to think about everyone and everything. I wish someone would just tell me what to order for everyone at McDonalds.”
Emotional labor refers to knowing all of the intricacies of all of the household’s and all of the family members’ concerns, needs, daily activities, schedules etc. and organizing it all, and making it all come together. It’s keeping tracking of all of the “stuff” that is only noticed when it doesn’t happen. (prescriptions, birthday parties/presents, dry cleaning, household essentials like toothpaste and toilet paper, people’s allergies and food preferences, setting up household repairs, pet grooming appointments, what to have and when to have dinner, doctor/dentist appointments, preparing for holidays and celebrations, social calendars, empathizing with the ups and downs of our loved ones lives, etc.) Sure, people may be more than happy to pick up the dry cleaning for you, but are they the ones thinking that it needs to be done, in the first place?
In all fairness, a lot of us tend to be “micromanagers” around our households. We want things done, or even not done, in our own particular way, and we develop grumbly attitudes of, “I’ll just do it MY way, so that it gets done the “right” way.” We don’t like to be told how, or when to do anything. We don’t like to feel controlled. But then we get aggravated when we feel like we are “doing it all,” or at the very least, “planning it all.” We start to become mopey, victimlike martyrs, not being good company for ourselves, or for anyone else.
As our kids have grown and our household has become less harried and busy and scattered, and our marriage has matured and progressed into its third decade, our division of chores feels more comfortable to my husband and me. We communicate better about our needs and our expectations. Honestly, when it comes to our yard and to our cars, I don’t think about them much, unless my husband hands a “to-do” list to me. It works for us. Still, I have a tendency to take on more of the “emotional labor” and I even sometimes create “emotional labor” that truly isn’t mine to take on. When I feel this frustration with my “emotional labor overload” happening, I know that it is time for me to sit back, and to reflect on how my daily life is going.
Often we feel more upset and resentful about our “emotional labor” when we aren’t creating enough “me time” for ourselves. Lately, with the business of my daughter graduating and all of her end-of-year activities, I have let more things creep into my sacred “me time.” I have allowed myself to get drained and irritable. I like long, leisurely, meandering, quiet, unscheduled mornings in which I can mostly focus on reading and on writing. When I give myself this time, the rest of my day flows more easily and I do my everyday chores happily and efficiently. When I give myself my “me time”, I feel better about the things that I do for others. However, in recent days, I have noticed that I have allowed more “stuff”, like appointments, phone calls, texting, chores, organizing, bills, other people’s wants and needs, etc. to creep into my sacred me-time and it is wearing on me. I’ve had to remind myself that I am in control of my time, and of my needs, and I can reign in my “emotional labor” instead of letting it take a life of its own, to bog me down.
I felt sort of a weight lifted off of my shoulders to have an actual, defining term for what I think has often been one of my biggest complaints in life: “emotional labor.” That’s what I love about the written language. When I can communicate what I am feeling, I can better understand my feelings, and I can better understand what I need to do to heal my situation. Further, to see that others have often dealt with this same phenomenon, makes me feel comforted, more self-aware and compassionate towards myself and others, and less alone. Writing, like all forms of communications, connects us to one another. This is a wonderful, natural feeling to soak in: connectedness. We are not alone. We are One. And that feels really good.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.