The Roles Nobody Warn You About
(A Ramble)
Let’s call this what it is: a ramble. No particular order, no ranking of what’s more important or less. Just me thinking out loud about all the roles I’ve carried and how one day you look up and it’s just you to sort, if you get time too. You have past the baton, your children have there own.
I’ll get back to this at some point, because it’s all a work in progress—just a ramble for today.
Some days I look back and realise I’ve lived about thirty lives inside one body. Mother, wife, partner, friend. Chef, cleaner, nurse, doctor. Teacher, lover, homemaker. Travel agent, logistics‑on‑logistics, emotional support hotline. Values, religion, fable‑maker. Ice‑cream provider. Cake baker. Bread maker.
Dedicated , forest breather and Sports director. (The right amount of fresh air and running)
Literal and physical groomer — nails clipped, my son = haircuts once a month from age four to fourteen. That’s roughly 144 haircuts. A whole barber career I never applied for. ( I did try this profession just to save money)FAIL
Contraception teacher. Family‑planning explainer. Birds‑and‑bees translator — whatever they call it now. Launderette. Fashion advisor. Personal shopper.
Bra size Measured. Shoe fixer, shoe measurer, shoe repairer.(Shoe maker) All the jobs nobody tells you you’ll be doing when you sign up to raise a child.
Danger‑spotter. First‑aid creator. Life‑information provider. Back then you didn’t have the internet in your pocket. You didn’t have endless books or TikTok tutorials. You had instinct, panic, and doing your best.
A life coach for children — giving them the values you have, or the ones your parents gave you, or the opposite of both. Trying to build balance with no training, no manual, no certificate. Just grit and hope.
Pet provider, Ya or Na sayer. Career provider — or lack of. And then Rasmus. A dog who arrived when my son was 16 and my daughter was 11. Dog walks: 4,500. He died aged 13.
Grief councilor Another role added, another role completed, another chapter closed.
These are just a few of the roles I’ve carried. The invisible CV of motherhood, partnership, survival. The jobs you never apply for, never get paid for, never get thanked for properly — but you do them anyway.
Because that’s what raising humans is. A thousand tiny professions, a thousand tiny responsibilities, a thousand tiny moments that build a life.
And somehow, I did all of them.
Footnote
No wonder I need help to find me.

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