Reclaiming Women Series #4 Reclaiming our Time

Time can feel like one of the scarcest resources in women’s lives. Between work, caregiving, relationships, and the invisible labour that fills the gaps, there is often very little left that feels like it truly belongs to us. And when we do have time, it can feel difficult to enjoy it without guilt.

What does it mean to reclaim time—not just practically, but emotionally?

I have just returned from holiday and I have that familiar post-holiday energy—you know the feeling—where you desperately try to change something in your everyday routine so you can hold onto “holiday you” for just a little bit longer.

We went to an all-inclusive for the first time, and for a few days I hardly made a decision. The children did as they pleased, meals appeared without planning, and I actually relaxed. I think that was the feeling, anyway.

And there were moments of real joy.

I could go to the gym when I wanted, or walk, or read my book. I loved watching the children play in the pool and chatter together. I loved the evening shows and the dancing afterwards. I loved the colours of nature around me—vivid, intense, alive.

But within a day or two of being home, I could already feel myself drowning in the “doing”.

There was washing and tidying. Work started again at 9:30am. The children needed entertaining. There were care home visits to my Gran. My phone seemed permanently attached to me. Emails. Messages. Logistics. Admin.

And suddenly, here we are again. Not feeling particularly alive.

So I am sitting here wondering whether I should become more protective of my time. Should I create firmer boundaries? Put things into my calendar? Become more structured?

And at the same time, I feel slightly hopeless about it all—or perhaps just realistic. Because life does not always go to plan. And I am not sure becoming rigid about time is the answer either.

Women and the Pressure of Availability

As women, we are often expected to be endlessly accommodating.

We are expected to be caring, emotionally available, flexible, organised, attractive, productive—and preferably all at the same time.

And when things go wrong, it is often our time that gets sacrificed first.

Our plans are the ones rearranged.Our rest is interrupted.Our needs are delayed.

This is often disguised as praise.

“You’re the emotionally stable one.”

“You’re just better at handling these things.”“

You’re the organised one.”

And whilst these comments may sound complimentary, they can quietly reinforce the expectation that women will absorb disruption without complaint.

But what if constantly adapting ourselves around everyone else’s needs is slowly eroding our wellbeing?

Women hold up enormous parts of society and community life—often invisibly. We carry emotional labour, practical labour, relational labour. And when there is no time left that feels truly ours, burnout becomes almost inevitable.

Not just burnout from the physical and emotional load itself, but from something deeper:

The resentment of a life constantly interrupted.The frustration of never quite getting to ourselves.The feeling that our own needs only matter once everyone else’s have been met.

Time as Something Emotional

I think this is why reclaiming time is not simply about productivity or organisation.

It is emotional.

Because many women have not only lost time—we have lost permission to fully inhabit it.

Rest can feel uncomfortable. Pleasure can feel unearned. Slowing down can provoke guilt rather than relief.

And perhaps this is also about power.

A society that keeps women permanently busy leaves very little room for expansiveness. Very little room for creativity, curiosity, protest, joy, or simply being.

If women are constantly occupied with holding everything together, there is less space for asking bigger questions about what we want, what we need, or how we wish to live.

So What Is the Solution?

Honestly, I am not entirely sure.

I am on this journey too.

But I think I want to begin by treating my time as something valuable rather than endlessly available.

I am going to experiment with giving certain days particular focuses—with flexibility rather than rigidity. I am going to try working in smaller, more realistic pockets of time instead of waiting for perfect uninterrupted hours that never arrive.

Perhaps I can write for fifteen minutes whilst dinner cooks. Perhaps I can go for a short run whilst the children are at an activity. Perhaps I can sit quietly with a cup of tea instead of automatically filling every gap with productivity.

I am also becoming increasingly aware of how available we are expected to be. Phones, emails, messages—there is a sense that we should always be reachable, always responsive.

Maybe reclaiming time also means reclaiming some distance from that constant accessibility.

But most of all, I think reclaiming time means giving some of it back to ourselves every single day.

Not only to rest.

But to remember who we are when we are not constantly responding to everyone else.

A Gentle Reminder

You do not have to earn rest by becoming completely exhausted first.

Your time has value even when it is not productive.

And taking up space in your own life is not selfish—it is necessary.

Questions to Sit With

What parts of your time genuinely feel like they belong to you?

And what might change if you began protecting those moments as carefully as you protect everyone else’s needs?