Peggy E

I've been on two work-related train trips in the past week, both of which gave me a much-needed sense of adventure and freedom. I’ve always felt “like a grown up” when I commute by train and treat myself to a takeaway cuppa.

But I’m feeling incredibly fortunate that I don’t have to do this regularly now that I have a part-time job in the town I live.

I went back to work when my son was five months old. His father wasn’t able to work so I was the breadwinner, and worked peripatetically, travelling to schools across a large area and earning a reasonable salary. I loved my job but the travelling was exhausting, as was the increasingly unhealthy relationship and the sense of dread I felt arriving home later than promised due to a missed connection, knowing the silent treatment I’d be met by.

When I separated from my son’s dad we moved back to my hometown where public transport provision is much poorer. During Covid I was able to work remotely until being made redundant, and after that it was incredibly hard to find a job that would accept the restrictions that solo parenting a small human puts on you. I had to leave two jobs because of their refusal to make accommodations around this and the impact on my mental health.

I now work part-time and locally for a much lower wage but I don’t have to send my child to breakfast club and can walk him to school every day.

I’m definitely no longer the young professional grabbing a takeaway coffee en route to an “Away Day” in London. But I’m not sure I miss her all that much.