For many years, I was the one who was left behind. My husband has always traveled for work – not a ridiculous amount, but when we were in the trenches with three little ones aged 5 and under, any amount felt ridiculous. Back in those days, our most basic individual needs (a moment to think, room to breathe, food, sleep, a shower) were so rarely met, anyone’s departure from the scene felt like total abandonment. I also remember feeling deeply offended by my husband’s ability to sleep through a baby’s cries, and to this day I remain convinced that he was faking it.
But back to the point. My husband used to travel occasionally, and it gutted me. There is peaceful alone time, and then there is time spent alone in the trenches, when inevitably someone ends up bleeding or vomiting and everyone is routinely crying. It was hard, so naturally, I filed work travel under the category “wholly objectionable” in my mind, and I reluctantly agreed to let him leave (as if I had a choice) only because somewhere in my mind, I recognized the need for a paycheck.
Fast forward to the year 2023, when I had the opportunity to travel to Africa not once, not twice, but thrice in the span of three months. The tables had turned in a big way.
My first trip took me through Paris, where I had an eighteen hour layover. It was my first time away from my kids for more than a night, my first time in Paris, my first time in Europe, my first time crossing an ocean, and I had eighteen hours to do eat croissants and wander aimlessly around one of the most magical cities in the world, and how did that feel? Sad. Like, really, really sad. I was sleep deprived and I missed my babies in a surprisingly big way, considering that I had just left them. It was at this point that I had to consider that maybe, sometimes, leaving is harder than being left behind.
After the dreadful Paris phase (yes, I hear how that sounds) I continued on my 36 hour journey to my final destination, became fully immersed in my work, and realized that being away from my family was survivable, but not my favorite.
Later that same month, I traveled to Kenya, and this time, I kept a few things in mind: I knew the first day would be the hardest; I knew that sleep deprivation would be largely responsible for any overwhelming feelings; and I resolved to be fully present in the moment, because I had spent my entire life up to this point longing for the opportunity to see the world, and this was my chance. I had a long but smooth journey, collected tons of air miles, and made time for a Safari on my last day, because #YOLO.
If you ever go to Nairobi, know that you can have an amazing safari experience without leaving the city. Nairobi National Park is the only national park within the limits of a capital city, and it’s amazing to be in the middle of this incredible environment, with zebras crossing your path, lions lounging in the grass 20 feet away, and rhinos farting in their sleep (legit happened, and by catching it on video, I became a hero to my kids) – all in the middle of Nairobi, with the cityscape visible in the distance. Tours are reasonable, and it’s a beyond epic way to spend a day. I’d also recommend adding a quick stop at the Giraffe Center. You’ll have them eating out of your hand 😉
My third and final adventure brought me to Accra, Ghana, for the 2023 UN Peacekeeping Ministerial. By this point, I knew how my body and mind would adjust to the trip, and my kids knew that I would bring back cool presents from overseas. I worked a ton, ate plenty of jollof, and snuck in a visit to an art museum.
So, in throwing us totally out of balance, the one thing 2023 gave my marriage was some degree of… balance. I learned what it was like to be the one who travels. My husband learned what it feels like to stay at home, and it would be unethical of me, as a reporter of my own life experiences, not to add that my husband complained about all of this zero times. Zero. Is it because he’s inherently more tolerant? Probably. Because he knew it was my turn? Also likely. But I think the biggest difference maker is the fact that we have reached the phase in our parenthood journey where holding it down at home isn’t so bad at all. No one is in diapers. Everybody sleeps. It’s not easy, but it’s totally doable.
And to all the parents out there who are struggling being the one who travels or the one who stays at home, or a little bit of both – I feel you.