How to be proud of being a homebody

Hello! My name is Corinne and I am a proud housewife! (Yes, admitting it is almost as liberating as attending an AA meeting!)

homebody: a person who likes to stay at home, especially one who doesn’t take the risk of being adventurous.

It’s kind of hard for people who knew me a some 10-12 years ago to believe this to be true of me. I’ve had loads of friends offline and have been actively involved with people always. Perhaps, one early hint of my ‘homebodiness’ is the fact that I never really liked to go out for parties.

How to be proud of being a homebody

When I moved to Mumbai after getting married, it seemed to provide the right atmosphere to showcase my inner home. I didn’t need to go out to work and found that I loved the idea. I know it’s crazy that we lived in Bandra, one of the supposedly “happening” places for a good late night out. But not for me. Fortunately, José is an introvert, but he too is sometimes difficult to understand.

Yes, I actually prefer my company. Don’t get me wrong I’m not anti-social, just that being an introvert, home is where I can really find solitude.

I have over a thousand friends on Facebook (mostly thanks to my blog), but I prefer social media to meeting in person with large groups of people. I can turn off social media – it’s much harder to deal with conversations in real life! 😉. I do meet up with friends in person, and prefer it that way, but that’s not too often and only a few people at a time. Ideally, however, one person at a time should do this. I’ll even confess there are times I’ve made a date with someone and I’m almost glad when they cancel! I’m glad when it rains really hard because I have the perfect excuse not to venture out! 😉.

I love to read and home is a place that guarantees me peace and quiet to read.

I am so happy that the blog (and the fact that my husband supports me) gives me the luxury of working from home.

I realize that I sometimes exaggerate being at home, I try to balance leaving the house by being a proud housewife.

Have you met someone like me? Are you the same? 🙂.

As part of my August celebration, I’m reviving #AnythingGoesOnSunday – an invitation for you to add yours link for your Sunday posts to the linky below. No reasons, no suggestions – everything is fine! However, I’d appreciate if you left a comment and visited at least two of the blogs linked before yours!
How to be proud of being a homebody

3 December 2015 by Maralee | 2 comments

Today I took my three children on errands with me. My older children went to school, so the 3 year old, the 2 year old and the one year old went with me to buy basketball shoes for my older kids. Staring at them on the car seats, I tried to remember the last time I took them three to get things done. . . and that’s when I realized it may never have happened before today.

I have six children. Somewhere around child number four (when my eldest was 5) I stopped trying to do all things. “Simplify” has become the motto of my life. It isn’t that my kids couldn’t behave themselves if I took them out and about. It isn’t that they didn’t enjoy occasional outings. It was just that I found I was becoming a woman I didn’t like. And having a mom you know loves you is more important than going to fairy tales in the library.

Some of you moms LOVE being around. It adds energy. It gives structure and purpose to your day. You feel like your life has meaning if you’ve put on shoes and run around town a bit. But there are some of us for whom public parenting isn’t fun. We are in a bad mood with our children and want to take a nap when we get home. We literally get a headache from the stress of holding it together as we wander the back streets of Target with the whining kids.

How to be proud of being a homebody

We get exhausted by having to help a toddler use a grocery store bathroom (I didn’t even know grocery stores HAD bathrooms until I had a toddler who saw public restrooms as some kind of tourism opportunity) while holding a baby and trying to keep a preschooler from unrolling the toilet paper. When we’re exhausted we huff and roll our eyes and say unhelpful things like, “Are you kidding me? Remember when I asked you if you have to stay HOME for the night? Can’t Mommy even pick up MILK and BREAD without having to wipe someone’s bottom?” I don’t like the woman I’m becoming, and at some point in my parenting journey I decided to limit her ability to harm my children.

This is my bottomline: I don’t want to yell at my kids. I don’t want to shame them in public. I want them to feel absolutely confident that they are loved and valued. This is not the kind of mom I was being at library story time or at the children’s museum or in the park or at the McDonald’s Playland. But I can be such a mom at home. I can give my kids the freedom to play, make mistakes, and use the bathroom without becoming a serious family drama. I love being in my house where we can do puzzles, have a dance party, mess around, sing, fight and read stories on the sofa. I’m not brooding about being stuck in the house with these kids, I truly enjoy it. Over the years I have become better at handling the stress of running around town with a toddler, a preschooler and a baby, but I’ve also learned to prioritize when it’s worth adding that stress into my life and when we’re better off at home.

I’m not saying my kids don’t leave the house. We have agreed on the planned activities. Friends are coming. They have play dates. My husband loves spontaneous play with children and will take them anywhere and anytime. They aren’t starved for interactions with other humans or intellectually stimulating activities. We’ve just learned how to do that in ways that work for our family.

Having many children means you have a lot of chances to find out what works for you and them. You learn your limits. You become less stressed when you’re out and about and you also become less stressed about feeling like to be a good mom you HAVE to be out and about. When we go out now, I’m preparing for it. I pre teach them about appropriate behavior for wherever we’re going. I have set clear expectations. I learn how to minimize my own stress by bringing a list of what we need or planning a reward ahead of time for myself when it’s all done. We enjoy ourselves when we make the effort to go exploring, but we also don’t do that very often.

The healthy time for me came when I no longer felt the pressure to create all these magical experiences for my children. If I can feel confident that I’m doing the right thing for them even by staying home, I can stop feeling judgmental or envious of my friends with different capacities and start being supportive. Now I can see a nice picture of mom and her little ones at the zoo without immediately feeling guilty about how rarely I do these things with my kids. I can be impressed that Mum gives Mum and I art lessons without blaming herself. I can see a mom running errands with a baby I’m pretty sure should be napping at this time of day without being irritated that other people aren’t as particular about schedules as I am. I don’t have to feel pressured into attending some event or class or party every other mom is going to with their kids if I know it wouldn’t be good for us. And I can be REALLY proud of myself as I step out into the big world and everything goes according to plan. . . or it doesn’t go as planned, but I stayed calm.

I grew up in a large family and knew that going somewhere together was difficult and logistically expensive for us. When I think about my own childhood, I don’t have a lot of memories of dramatic, magical experiences. What I remember is an overwhelming sense of security and of being appreciated and loved. I had a lot of free time to choose my activities and felt free to explore my home, yard and neighborhood. That’s the gift I want for my kids. And I want to give myself the gift of accepting my limits when it comes to outside activities. It’s amazing how therapeutic getting groceries can feel when you do it by yourself at 9 p. m. It’s not wrong for me to handle those activities in ways that keep my sanity intact. When people look at my large family of young children and ask, “How are you doing this?” I think the most accurate answer would be, “I don’t.” If it doesn’t involve feeding, dressing, or loving my little ones, I’ve learned to scale back and prioritize. Parenting a large family isn’t that hard if you remember what parenting is really all about. I’m focused on raising healthy (emotionally, physically, spiritually) people, not on just creating a storybook life for them or for myself.

For my fellow Homebody Moms, do yourself some favors. Accept your family life. Find ways to stretch yourself when it’s important. Cheer on your adventurous friends and ask them for tips when you’re heading out (they know where the cleanest bathrooms are at the zoo and which grocery stores give out free cookies). Create opportunities for one-on-one interaction with your kids on your way out instead of trying to take on the entire crew at once. Don’t feel like in order to be a “good mom” you have to participate in every activity offered. Remember that this is a season and one day you’ll be able to run errands without little ones to wrangle.

I like staying and staying at home. It’s almost unthinkable to say that, having lived through a year of the pandemic and lockdowns, yet I’m one of those who doesn’t get bored at home. And I confess, I’m sometimes reluctant to leave the house. Blasphemy! Being a homebird is often perceived badly, but I’m ok with it and I’m not as anti-social as it seems…

How to be proud of being a homebody

Homebird, life in my enchanted interlude

I’m very able to take pleasure in going out. Before the pandemic, I also enjoyed going to restaurants or sometimes to the movies with my friends, but whenever it comes to going out, I needed a lot of motivation to really walk out the door. After all, I was much more interested in the idea of ​​staying home on the sofa, cooking a tasty meal, and ending the day curled up in front of a good movie. I don’t particularly care for the outside world and I thrive inside at home. There is no place like home o Home sweet home may be my mantras. And if these phrases exist, I can’t be the only one to like coming back to my little nest.

I am home

Obviously, before 2020 and the arrival of Covid, I was spending more time outside and my home was my enchanted footage.That hidden space when I could finally be myself, get rid of the mask, be safe and take back control of my world.So clearly when the first block came, I became that weird girl who saw it not as a deprivation of freedom but as a newfound freedom:I was finally allowed to stay at home! Away from the hustle and bustle of the world, I took my time, took stock, enjoyed my family in complete privacy, got to know myself, finally escaped from stress and anxiety. So of course when the lockout was done, I was struck with cabin syndrome. How could I leave this soothing and calming cocoon behind?

>>> You may be interested in this article: The causes of panic attacks

Domestic bird, but not misanthrope

If I am a pet bird, it is because I feel safer on the inside than on the outside.I’m self-reliant and don’t need other people’s opinion to exist, especially because I feel insecure. For all that, I have friends and carry on a long family tradition: if I don’t go out much, I host a lot. I love to see people, but at home, where I feel best, in the same territory as myself. As before a theatrical performance, I take care of the lighting, I get ready, I organize the decorations for the evening, and when everyone is gone, I close the door the same way I pull the curtains. These are all the little things I miss when I have to leave. On the outside I am no longer a master of ceremonies, I am returning to being a spectator, I have less control and I am also less important.

A question of balance

But love is born of desire and we’re never happier than when we meet up again with those we had to leave for a while. So, if I love my home so much, it’s because I have to leave it too. In life, it’s all about balance and I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t say that the outside also holds some pleasures. But if the block has taught me anything, is to be my driving force and to listen to me more. I go outside because I want to and (almost) never because I’m forced to or because of peer pressure anymore: “Come on, you’ll see, it’ll be great.”, “Come on, you’re not going to stay at home again.” I have learned to say no and I choose the tours to make the most of them.

How to come to terms with being a sandwich?

Perhaps if we stop using the term couch potato, which isn’t flattering and doesn’t really represent the reality anymore. New technologies, environmental awareness and Covid now more than ever allow you to confirm your true nature as a pet bird. The house is no longer a place of leisure, but only a place of rest. Today we are at home work at home, we create and, above all, we reduce our carbon footprint!

So there’s no need to try and struggle to become less of a pet bird.Having fun staying at home is a joy like any other.There is nothing unhealthy or embarrassing about this, so like anything else that makes us feel good and makes us feel good, we assume it, don’t feel guilty and have fun.

Do you prefer home sweet home on a tiled night? Then welcome to the Family Club.

How to be proud of being a homebody

We just have an over-developed nesting instinct, which means home is absolutely where our heart is

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If you are the type of person who would rather look at the casket in the comfort of your sofa rather than an extravagance full of bells and whistles in a posh cinema, if the restaurant you have chosen is a kitchen table, not the two-star restaurant everyone talks about. than if it was the last time, when you were away from home after 7:30 pm, throwing out the baskets and considering yourself part of the furniture, congratulations: you are a member of the family.

Some of us like to be inside. It’s nothing to do with being agoraphobic, anti-social or cheap (although, on a cost-per-glass basis, wine does work out cheaper when you get it from your own fridge). We just have an over-developed nesting instinct, which means home is absolutely where our heart is. And it’s a chronic condition that seems to worsen with age.

Like most people, I went out as often as possible when I was a teenager. And this despite having nowhere to go.

It’s not that my friends weren’t welcomed into our home (even though my dad turned off the power when the music from my room reached a certain decibel level), but at this age there is an urgent need to go out and meet people who find their place in the world.

How to be proud of being a homebody

The restaurant you choose is a kitchen table, not a luxury two-star restaurant

Which is disappointing when you find your place in the world is the local Wimpy bar, especially on busy afternoons when a minimal fee applies.

In my mid-twenties, I went out more often than all night. The fact that I lived in a damp, dark basement flat akin to a cave wasn’t exactly an incentive for doing anything domestic and since I had disposable income, I could afford a proper social life. Back then, I needed a complete diary for each day where I could plan all my antics. Now I don’t even have a calendar.

Which probably makes me sound desperately sad when, in fact, I couldn’t be happier. Because over the years I have gone from a social butterfly to a hibernating hedgehog. I’m the kind of person who actually celebrates the clocks going back – and not simply because I feel less guilty having that first glass of wine at 6pm when it’s already been dark for several hours (although that helps).

Winter is the perfect time of year for family members. Baby, it’s cold outside, so all the more reason to crank up the heating, draw the curtains, slip into something more comfortable and build a cocoon.

Of course, it’s easier to enjoy being at home when you’re older. When you’ve actually acquired a home and some of the trappings of adult life to put in it – a few home comforts and a few mod cons. You’re also more likely to enjoy staying in when you know how to cook something more ambitious than a toastie.

And your FOMO (fear of being missed) is inversely related to your age. Homebodies are usually well aware of what they’re missing, which is why we opted out in the first place.

It’s not just our age, but the age we live in, too. Bringing outdoors meant having a potted plant or bouquet of flowers.

Now technology has transformed our homes into a kind of connected virtual mall, library and cinema. We have all the information and entertainment you need with a click of the mouse or a swipe of the screen. And social media means that we can connect not only with friends but also with complete strangers.

You can throw a sweatpants party without leaving your Fatboy sack bag, except for the weird trip to the fridge.

It’s not like being a family member is just synonymous with being a lazy couch potato. Sure, we love the duvet day. Especially when it’s grey and rainy outside, we can happily spend 24 hours in bed, reading books and magazines, watching Sex And The City for the umpteenth time, having long, leisurely chats with girlfriends.

But we also love to be absorbed in projects: I’m not exactly proud of the house, but I can spend hours doing the housework, whether it’s putting things down and tidying up, rolling up my sleeves and cleaning the oven properly, or a little. – do it yourself in all respects.

That’s part of the problem – the more time you spend in it and on it, the more welcoming your home seems to be, creating a virtuous circle from which there’s no desire to escape. My best intentions are during the day when the thought of a distant social event seems tempting to me.

But there comes a time when I have to break away from the fire, swap shoes for stilettos and scrape the ice off the windshield, and it quickly loses its charm. I no longer have the social stamina of my youth.

So tonight I’m pulling up my metaphorical drawbridge. If anyone wants me I’ll be under my fleece blanket on the left side of the couch. See you next summer.

How to be proud of being a homebody

Being a family member can be difficult if some people not only feel uncomfortable and uncomfortable leaving, but you have to resist pressure from friends who want you to leave all the time. Quindi le persone che I am home spesso si sentono imbarazzate o come se qualcosa non andasse in loro. Ultimately, however, by accepting who you are – taking steps to enjoy yourself at home and revealing yourself in the joys of family life, you will be proud to be a member of the family.


Think about why you like to stay at home. A little self-reflection will go a long way when it comes to accepting who you are. After considering why you prefer to stay at home rather than go out, you will probably be safer. Some reasons may include: you are anxious when you go out, you miss your family or pets when you go out, and there are many things you enjoy doing at home that you cannot do elsewhere.


Chances are that if you are a “homemaker” you may be an introvert. Introversion is usually characterized by a person’s tendency to build up strength and comfort in solitude. Introversion is not a one-time dimension for everyone. Each person is unique in the way they express themselves based on where they are on the introversion spectrum. An introverted person can quickly become exhausted and worn out from being around other people. They need a relaxing, comfortable space to help them relax and recharge their batteries. Many family members are introverted and enjoy spending quiet, relaxing time contemplating various interests and ideas. They can be very creative, insightful and innovative people. Someone with introverted tendencies usually prefers to work alone rather than in a group. However, they also have excellent communication and listening skills.


Compassion for ourselves is our ability to love and empathize with ourselves. Practice self-compassion by focusing on three elements:

  1. Recognize that no one is perfect, not even yourself.
  2. Practice saying that despite these imperfections it is good to be comfortable with who you are and with your life – practice kindness.
  3. Eliminate negative thoughts and self-criticism.
  4. Replace any negative thoughts or behavior with two positive ones.
  5. Be attentive and present in this moment.
  6. Try to always remain and be impartial and aware of all your experiences.

I should be home tonight.

I promised my little brother that I would take him to Lego Movie 2.

I should be home tonight.

I haven’t been home for almost a month and haven’t seen my little brother, hugged him, laughed with him, visited trains and animals with him and didn’t talk to him in Hmoob.

Non potevo chiedergli di dire "thov" quando chiede un regalo, dei giocattoli o quando le chiede di venire con me.

Tonight, I should be home.

I miss sleeping on the floor of my brother’s room as he snores. The room is too small for us both and I always create a mess, but he just got accepted to the University of Wisconsin, Steven’s Point and he will be gone soon. This room will soon be empty. I just want to appreciate him while he’s still here.

Tonight, I should be home.

My parents are in one of their biggest quarrels and they were getting a divorce a few months earlier. Things have calmed down since I told them I wouldn’t be back for a while. Maybe they finally figured out what I meant when I said I was tired of being the parent of my parents and siblings.

Yesterday my mom called me on Facebook and told me not to go home. The roads will be bad. Snow will be dangerous. I know if I go home my parents will blame me for the last 4 weeks.

I am the first and only daughter of my parents.

I am my parents’ hopes and dreams. I carry their victims on my shoulders. Sometimes their victims take me into my darkest moments. These are the demons we don’t want to talk about. When I talk about it, I can never hold back the tears.

I am the first and only daughter of my parents. I was born to raise my brothers, I was born and raised to be a nyab. I was born to be the success story my parents dreamed of when they fled the war.

I think the Hmoob daughters know best the burden of carrying the whole family on their shoulders: carrying emotions, hope, dreams, love, trauma. We bring their love, even when we know it is not the same as the love they have for the children they would like to be.

The Hmoob daughters know very well that we are never entirely our parents. We will go when we get married. We will become a part of someone else’s family.

I reject this idea to say that I will always be part of my family and someone who cannot respect it does not deserve my love. I reject this idea because my siblings will still need me, my parents will still need me and I will still need them.

Tonight, I should be home.

I am a member of the family. Every time I leave the house to return to the city where I study, my heart breaks. When I go out, I feel a distance between my heart and my soul. I hear my younger brother say my name, begging him to come with me. I see him greet me from our living room window. I see the way he doesn’t leave the glass until my car is out sight.

The moment I enter the house, I hear my mother asking me when I am going out. I hear her tell me not to worry about her because she’s missing another dose of depression medication.

I hear my brothers asking me to take them to the store. They ask how to get rid of acne, how to pay taxes, how to apply for college, how to apply for a job, and how to do well in interviews.

I should be home tonight. But instead I cry.

I’ve always had to choose between career, future and family, as if there is always an abyss between the person I have to be and the person I want to be. I’m waiting for the day when I won’t have to choose between them.

When I go out, my mother tells me: “Mus kawm ntawv kom zoo nawb mog. Txhob txhawj txog peb. ” ( Go and study well. Don’t worry about us.)

I’m doing well in college. I’m not worried about my studies. This is how much I would lose my life after graduation. How many birthdays will I miss? How many diplomas, family talks, tears, laughter and smiles will I lose to the army? For school, for work, for time, for the distance between me and my heart and home.

I’ll be home soon.

My parents have never agreed with the decisions I have made in my life and have spoken out loud about them. My parents have never expressed their support for my future, for my current studies, but they have always been there. I know I will be proud. Be the person I want to be for myself, my siblings, my parents, my Hmoob community. So far I have succeeded, I will continue.

I am excited to start this blog (even if no one reads it).

Hello and welcome to my first blog post! I have pretty much no idea what I’m doing, so keep your expectations low people.

First, let me tell you a little about me and my family. My husband and I were high school boyfriends who have been married for four and a half years. We have two children together. My husband is an undertaker (yes, he really is). We are a young Catholic married couple with children, living in a world full of tramps with “fur babies”. It can feel a little isolating sometimes to live a life that is so counter-cultural, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. And if you find yourself in more of the “wanderer” category, that’s okay! I think you should keep reading because I find it really interesting and useful to delve into the perspectives of people whose lives are different from yours.

I have a B. A. in Communication Studies which I have never used professionally because I went straight from graduating from college to becoming a stay-at-home mom (my oldest was born one month before graduation). Honestly, this step was a dream come true for me. Being SAHM has been a desire that has always been in my heart, but I never imagined that my husband and I would be able to do this job so early in our life. An integral part of making that work was the decision to let my husband’s career take us to a small town in rural Minnesota. Living in a small town was good for us thanks to the low cost of living and the simpler lifestyle; I highly recommend.

And that’s a decent segue into the “homebody” part of my personality. I like simple things. I love staying at home. Having the choice between going out to a busy and noisy restaurant or dining in the comfort of my home, I would choose my home almost every time. I like to know my routine. I’m pretty introverted, so avoiding unnecessary interactions with other humans is nice. I love that my kids can run like wild animals and that I can keep eating, free from their antics. My very outgoing husband is sometimes frustrated with my hermit preferences, but he doesn’t mind that. I’m a proud homebody. (Works well with the blog title in this post – check it out!).

A creative representation of my ideal existence on this earth.

Let’s now turn to my children. You all really want to read about my sweet children, don’t you? Well, my oldest is three and a half (the half is very important to him, so I decided I’d better not leave that out). He is super articulate and intelligent and has such a big heart (read: he is very sensitive and emotional). He’s the one who made me a mom. I love the little goober. I have this crazy relationship with my first child where I can read his thoughts and motivations of him very easily. I can predict his reactions to things. In many ways, he resembles himself, so I understand that. He makes sense to me.

Now my youngest on the other side. Being a mom to him is a completely different game, my friends. He’s currently 17 months old, and, as my husband so lovingly puts it, “he wants to see the world burn.” He likes to create confusion and chaos. His cherubic face lights up with joy every time he reaches out his chubby hand, as if he wants to lovingly caress our cheeks, then at the last moment pinches the skin under our eyes, pulling it as far away from our skulls as possible. He is alive sometimes when I look up and see him balancing precariously on something very high in the air; he loves the way my face looks as my heart literally skips a few beats as I chase him to make it.

Don’t get me wrong, we love him dearly too. The little elf teaches me to enjoy harmless mischief. He’s teaching me to be more laid back. He’s showing me that, if I give him a chance, he can safely navigate his way down from great heights all on his own. Some time.

A rare moment of sweetness among my children. Photo: AB images

I’m excited to be starting this blog (even if no one reads it). I intend to use it as a place to keep the stories of my children and our adventures. I will share my thoughts on motherhood and life. Above all, I’m going to entertain anyone who reads it a bit. Being alive is fucking beautiful, beautiful and weird. We should all savor it and laugh at it from time to time.

During both quarantines, reading kept me satisfied with the current situation in my life. A book that I was looking forward to is domestic body by the poet Rupi Kaur. I thought the title was fitting considering I, an extreme-extrovert, was learning how to be a ‘homebody.’

In the first part, Kaur openly reveals her past of sexual abuse, anxiety and depression. The “mind” chapter takes the inner workings of Kaur’s thoughts and brings them to light. Feeling comfortable with my mind, this pandemic has been extremely difficult for me. Words like “my mind / my body / and I / we all live in one place / but it seems to me that we are / three completely different people” (Kaur, 14) attracted me because for the first time in my life not feeling like a competitive athlete. Playing competitive sports ensured that my body was in tune with my mind: I listened to it when it was hungry, in pain, restless and excited. I felt like my identity had been taken, layer by layer, until there was only a shell of anxiety and uncertainty left. For the first time, these partners were separated.

In the third part, “rest,” Kaur describes “productivity blame,” a term I’ve been desperate to indicate how I’ve been feeling for the past six months. Even though I was sent home from college and my sport was canceled, I felt the need to be productive to feel fulfilled. I thought the same way about Kaur, feeling inadequate no matter how hard you work.

I would tell myself “how can i be so/cruel to myself/when i’m doing the best i can” (34). Reading it, knowing that others felt that way, gave me a lot of comfort. There were days when my anxiety was so “sweetly strong” (17) that all I could do was sit in bed. Gradually I learn that “productivity is not how much / work I do during the day / but how well I balance / what I need to stay healthy” (115). A poem that particularly struck me in this section is “to calm downI was praying to my mind /your thoughts are/robs us of joy“(124). Thinking back, especially at a time when it’s one of the few things we can do, he’s been a silent killer. Learning to “rest” my mind was like a long sigh that I held back.

When I got to the “wake up” section, everything connected. Kaur writes that she feels “relieved” knowing that so many others are struggling with “pains she thought about / that she was alone” (126). I can honestly say the same. The last page leaves readers with the question “now that you are free / and the only responsibility you have / is your dreams / what you will do / in time” (189). Closing the novel, everything that I had complained about for the past 9 months—life’s cancellations and looming problems—seemed miniscule. When readers reach the end, they are “awake” and ready to step out into the world as a confident person, realizing that the feelings we consider “flaws” are as important as our success.

Moving forward into 2021, I am trying to implement everyday words in the last “awake” section. I’m learning not to hide or suppress anxiety. I’ve realized I want to learn to live with balance. I’m not trying to be repressed, but empowered by the activities I have to do, even something as small as completing a full skincare routine. Productivity can be defined by small things instead of the bigger goals I have had in the past. Learning to love being “home” – as I interpret it – means building a better relationship with my body and my mind. Learn to enjoy mundane tasks and feel accomplished when they’re all done – and don’t be hard on yourself when the “bigger picture” isn’t completed in a day.

Kaur’s third collection could not have been released at a better time. Being empowered, especially as a woman in the 21st century, means being strong, proud and confident. Although Kaur emphasizes the importance of these concepts in some poems domestic body, gives more importance to the genuine and real feelings that emancipated women try to hide in order to be taken seriously. Being empowered means doing everything (124) and realizing that the things we try to hide from the outside (and, frankly, ourselves) are the very things that make us strong. domestic bodyhe articulated those feelings that we have often put aside and made them triumphant.