The author (left) is the only woman in her immediate family.
Courtesy of Susan Teresa
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy life as a boy-mom. Having three sons, my days are filled with excited talk of superheroes, villains, and video games. In summertime, epic battles play out in the backyard until dinner. On family movie nights, "Star Wars," "The Hobbit," and "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy run on infinite loops. Life is never boring.Although the "Boom! Crash!" of their younger years has now shifted to more nuanced language like "Bro! That's sus," I still can't help but feel, as our family of five gathers for meals, that I'm often the odd "man" out.Their shared spoken code reminds me that I'm the only female at the table, and that I'm fundamentally different in highly important ways.That's when I realized I needed my own space.I wanted my own space — away from the boysThese past few years, I've stepped deeper into midlife — when women, often having spent decades as caregivers, ask, "Who am I really?" and "Why don't I feel like myself anymore?"I longed for a quiet space to explore these questions and others — like "What does it mean to be a woman in today's world?"My challenge was space. In 2019, wanting a home office/creative space, I transformed an unused room on our second floor. Then the pandemic hit. My husband, who'd always commuted, ended up working remotely for several years. My home office became his workspace.
