When I was a child, if you asked me who a ‘provider’ was, I would have pictured my father. Because that’s the word society attributed to him. He was the one getting in the money and it was him I saw going to work every single day. It all makes sense until you think about it deeper. And bring in your own perspective.

While my father went to his factory and worked for a remuneration, my mother stayed at home and worked all day long, for… well, more work. While the rewards to my father’s work were tangible, my mother’s job bore no evidence except for the temporarily clean house and temporarily full kids.

Still, I saw my mother moulding herself around the needs of my father. She would make herself available for him, no matter when he called upon her. He would always have a hot meal and ironed shirt waiting for him. Almost like clockwork.

In the true sense, my mother was the ‘provider’ of the family. She made sure we had everything we needed to grow and prosper. While all of us took turns to throw tantrums at her atleast once in a day, she gave herself no such liberties.

In my own marriage, my ideas of gender based roles have been questioned continuously. When we had our daughter, I had no idea how we would take care of a baby and both have careers at the same time. While my parents lived close-by, we both agreed that we didn’t want to give the lion’s share of weekday care-giving responsibilities to the grandparents.

So the unthinkable happened. My husband was at a career impasse and I had a stable job that I wanted to go back to. So we switched roles and he became the primary guardian for our daughter and I became the financial provider of the family.

Being a single income household with no back-ups isn’t easy. Neither is dealing with the male urge and need to contribute financially for the family. It’s an awkward dinner conversation and an arrangement that not everyone can wrap their heads around. Top that with the guilt that the working parent goes through for not spending enough time at home.

So our journey was far from easy. We’d make up things to tell our friends and relatives and try to make ends meet most months. Until I took up more assignments and projects. Money started trickling in but the stress was mounting up. How long are we going to go on like this? When will he get back to a stable income? It all seemed like a lost cause on some days. I was overworked and stressed.

But he was the real rock of the family. Bathing her, packing lunch boxes, waking up in the morning and doing ballet runs, all while fighting the urge to be more and do more. For years on end. While he fought his own internal battles and unwilling transformation, I was able to juggle work and travel. All because he was at home to look after our daughter.

It’s a real travesty that as a society we fail to recognise the un-paid support we get at home from our loved ones. When someone decides to stay at home and support their family, they’re really putting all of their self in supporting someone else’s dreams and aspirations. Especially if its a man, because he needs to not just fight the societal norms but also his own programming.

Regardless of who decides to stay home, can there ever be two equals in a marriage? Can you both have busy thriving careers when you have children at home? Most times, one person has to press the brakes on their professional career so that they can be more available at home. But lately I have been questioning if that’s such a bad thing after all? If you look at life as a story and not as a contest that you have to win, you realise that what you do for a living is actually only a part of you, hardly your entire identity. So whether it’s a stay at home wife (or husband) or a flashy acronym at a corporate office, a career should be defined not by the amount of time or the level of remuneration but how you’ve used your days to develop your personality.

When you have a child, it’s a promise you’re making to show up each day, everyday for this human who basically uses your emotional and mental strength as their own moral compass. It takes a village to bring up a child but the heads of the village have to be the parents. Being there for your children is a privilege, not a burden. Staying at home for your children can be an introspective, enriching experience for both the child and you. And that can only happen when you’re also investing in yourself.

If you detach it from the social stigma of being busy and financially productive, being at home can be an incredibly liberating yet rewarding occupation. If you decide to also take a chance on yourself that is. Being a homemaker does not mean keeping yourself aside for the sake of others. Being available is often confused with being selfless.

I think we celebrate the wrong things when it comes to our mothers and other homemakers. We laud them for their sacrifices and availability. Those are the very things that have made so many stay-at-home parents feel stuck and lost. We really should be celebrating them for their compassion, time and love. We should be recognising those who did right by their own desires and heart despite the demanding nature of their job. Those who didn’t lose their essence while being there for their family and fulfilling their duty. Those are the ones that did it right. After a point, you don’t need them to cook, clean or drive for you. But you will always need their love and support. And you will always need to look up to them.

Roles within the family keep changing. I am now the stay-at-home parent and he is the earning partner. I realise now that money worries never really go away, no matter who or how many are at the driving seat. Financial wellbeing, much like overall wellbeing is often a matter of perspective and deeply subjective and personal.

Whatever your background, gender or role, you really need to fit snugly in your own shoes to not let a job or role define your life. When it comes to humans, the sum of parts is smaller than the whole. We are so much more than our roles. And I believe the word ‘provider’ should be seen more with the lens of emotional intelligence rather than career decisions.