Are you okay, or are you a female breadwinner?

Say hi to Amy. 

Amy has just gone back to work after having her second child. She has a man at home, her husband. And he’s taking care of the baby, who’s almost one, and the bigger kid too, when he’s not at daycare. 

The man is doing just fine, thanks. He’s enjoying the change from his regular work, having more flexibility in his day. Being outside with the kids, no commute, no deadlines, no boss figuratively tapping their watch. 

He’s also doing just fine, thanks, because Amy’s mum is dropping over lasagnas and pasta bakes a few times a week. And because, when Amy gets home from work she still clears the detritus from the day, and sets things up for the next. The little things that keep people alive. You know the drill – wiping surfaces, sterilising night bottles, clearing the dryer filter. Is there milk? Are there clean clothes? Nappies? A change of clothes in the bag? She often mops the kitchen floor because he says “don’t worry about it”, but she does worry about it, actually, because baby spends most of her time down there. 

And she also gets on the mothers' group WhatsApp to see what activities the other babies are doing now, and to organise a playdate or two for the big kid to make her husband’s life a bit easier, and that meet-up with another dad because she wouldn’t want her husband to feel isolated. She gets on the app to check that vaccinations are up to date and tries to schedule that ear appointment on an afternoon she might be able to work from home. 

Her mum never dropped off a lasagna when Amy was at home with two tiny children, just months before. Even though she was struggling with mastitis, her father was in hospital, and the baby wasn’t sleeping. In fact, Amy's mum's been telling Amy to make sure her husband doesn't feel neglected, since he's "doing so much."

Hi, Amy, and welcome to the world of the Female Breadwinner. Take a seat on that chair of spikes, pick up the switch we whip ourselves with, put on the tin hat of bad-vibes protection. 

Watch: Ladies Talk Money – The Final Taboo. Post continues after video.

It’s brilliant being the person who makes the money in a family. It buys you freedom, independence and the ability to never have to rely on anyone else for freedom and independence. These are things that matter. 

Also, if you are a woman in a “traditional” family arrangement – let’s say a heterosexual marriage or long-term partnership – it also buys you bad-arse rebel credibility. And an enormous amount of stress. 

An estimated 23 per cent of Australian women earn more than their male partners, a number that’s rising very quickly. And before some crusty dude (hi, Mark Latham) asks whatever happened to the gender pay gap, yes, that’s also a thing, and women remain over-represented in lower-paying jobs and professions. But as female graduates outnumber male ones, for a growing number of two-income families, women’s work is bringing home the bacon. 

And the stereotype of the breadwinner hasn’t caught up with these women. 

Please consider the portrait of a male breadwinner we were familiarised with by the pop culture many of us grew up with. And by, um, Mad Men. 

This guy wore a hat and a suit and disappeared for nine hours a day to a faceless office in a generic city where maybe he drank martinis and sexually harassed the more junior females at work until he came home to a wife wearing lipstick, holding out a pot roast dinner and fixing him another stiff drink. 

Or maybe he worked hard out in the “real world”. Building things, making things, growing things, driving stuff. Leaving home while it was still dark and coming home in the late afternoon dirt-streaked and sweaty and smelling of a well-quenched, hard-earned thirst. 

This man – if he ever really existed – was coddled by his family. They prepared him meals he liked, and didn’t expect him to do the dishes afterwards, or participate in family activities on the weekends. They tiptoed around him when he was home, tired from a big day out in the big world. Ssssh, everyone, Daddy works hard. He needs to decompress.  

The man in the hat copped respect. 

“The head of the household.” 

“Wait til your father gets home.” 

“Who wears the pants around here?” 

Yes, these are deeply outdated ideas in a world where our idealised view of a family is as a team, where jobs are shared, roles are respected and pants may not be worn at all.

Listen to this episode of Mamamia Out Loud. Post continues after podcast.

But I asked female breadwinners – that is, women whose job is the main source of family income – about the pain points of carrying the responsibility of being lead earner, and there were a few overwhelming themes. 

Number one: They have WAY more than one job. The second job is still running the house (hi, Amy!), the second is as long-distance lead parent and their third is making sure that their partner is okay about the way things are. 

Here are a few responses. 

“I still carry a lot of the mental load and do many of the traditional ‘mum’ duties.”

“The hardest thing to deal with is the male pride… I am acknowledged and appreciated but he still has a delicate ego that it’s not him.”

“I still have to do more than half of the household duties. It wouldn’t be the same if reversed.” 

“I’m constantly worrying about emasculating him.” 

“Feeling like the breadwinner and the housewife. So, another job.” 

“He can’t deal with it. Every time I move forward we fight because he can’t understand my drive.” 

“I’m still expected to do most of the strategic thinking/mental load. I’m so tired.” 

“Being ‘default parent’ as well as the earner. Big pressure!” 

Which brings us to Number Two. Something female breadwinners definitely have in common with the traditional male version is the pressure. That guy in the hat self-medicating with straight liquor was often feeling the weight of being “the man” for the family when times get tough, and we are definitely feeling it, too. 

The most common response to what the biggest issue with being lead earner was:

“The load.”

“The mental load, pressure and exhaustion.”

“The pressure of being ‘the one’.”

“The pressure. Just another thing I’m responsible for.” 

“Pressure if I fail or change my mind. Still carrying a fair bit of family mental load.”  

“Feeling the burden, fear of losing work and what impact it could have,” 

“The pressure to stay in a demanding job to keep the money flowing in.” 

“That you can never pull back.” 

So, no change there. But the difference for us is that the pressure is often invisible, or dismissed, because the world very much likes to view women earning money – particularly mothers earning money – as a choice. A lifestyle. A cute affectation. 

So smile, boss bitch, and make sure you’re still at school pick-up looking grateful to be there because number three in the themes of breadwinner business is… Other People’s Opinions. And Guilt.  

Let’s all bow down to the woman who told me the best thing about being the lead earner in her house was: 

“The fact that my old-fashioned misogynistic father-in-law hates it.” 

But not all the vibes coming from outside your home are so satisfying.  

“The school always calls me. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve given them my partner’s number, they always call me. And I usually miss the call because I’m in a meeting, and then I get the disappointed voice.”

“Other people’s judgements about why I don’t know what’s going on at school or with my son's friends.” 

“My sister is always saying she ‘wishes she didn’t care about being a hands-on mum’, like I don’t.” 

“I can’t seem to shake the ‘mum guilt’ of not being so available to my children.”

“Missing stuff. Only seeing videos of sports day or plays that are only on during the day.” 

“Not seeing my toddler as much as I’d like and as much as the other mums do.” 

And the last word in the ridiculous opinions of others about what goes on in your topsy-turvey home goes to the more than one woman who wrote something like this to me:

“Everyone says he’ll cheat to prove he’s still a man.”

Because that’s definitely why people cheat. And it’s definitely your fault. Much like everything else. 

I see you, female breadwinners, and raise a stiff martini – that you definitely made yourself – in your direction. 

Because you are doing the job of five men in hats, and no one dropped you a lasagna off this week.

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