I, Nigella

I am writing this with the smell of a home-made lasagne cooking quite wonderfully in the oven. The house smells of onion, tomato and the sweet scent of smugness that only my foray into the world of the domestic goddess can provide.
I have had a day off from work. The little one started pre-school yesterday so I donned my contented mother hat and have spent two days dropping him off at school and collecting him with a proud mummy smile and a warm glow in my heart at seeing my boy taking his first steps into the world of education.
I then came home, whipped up the lasagne, cleaned the kitchen and suddenly thought:
I could do this. I could be a housewife. I could spend my days taking my son to school, doing housework, cooking dinner for my family with, of course, some writing thrown in for good measure.
As I say this I am sure the feminist army is creeping up on me, all dressed in ninja gear and ready to nun-chuck me into oblivion but let me say ‘don’t not fear, ladies! Your bra’s did not go to waste!’
I am seventies-born child. I was fortunate to be educated during the eighties and early nineties when it was more or less expected that you would aim for further education regardless of your sex. In fact, if anything at my school it was more likely for the girls to go to university and have clear career goals, than it was for the boys. I had wanted to be a theatre director and when I changed my mind, as most teenagers do, I wanted to work in publishing or in a literary agency. When that dream fizzled out I fell, quite by accident, into the fashion accessories industry and it is there I have built and nurtured my career ever since.
So my point is, I have had my career. I worked damn hard from starting position as an administrator up to senior account manager level and as a woman, I am very proud of that achievement. I am proud that at my peak I was earning a damn good wage and my husband and I lived a very pleasant, fortunate lifestyle.
I did all that but now find myself in a position where I just wish for a different life. I want to be able to cook for my family every night. I want to take my son to school and see his smiling face as I pick him up every afternoon. I want to clean my house Mary Poppins style. Is there something wrong with wanting that life? I’m sure some women would sneer at it, after all, what modern woman in her right mind would EVER want to be a housewife? Surely there’s something more? Don’t we need to enrich our minds and fight tooth and nail to win our place in the workplace?
Yes, of course we do and I will always advocate and encourage women to build long and successful careers, alongside men, earning the same as men do because we have a right to be there and we can do it. We have proven we can do it.
But ultimately we have the right to do anything we want to do in life. What does it matter if that involves making millions for your corporation or whether it involves making lasagne for your husband and son?
I, for one, would be more than happy to play at being Nigella. Although of course I would prefer to do it with her curves and a good lashing of chocolate sauce 😉