Life in lockdown
From families enjoying the slower pace of life to a single woman wondering when she’ll date again, Grazia speaks to nine women on their doorsteps about how life has changed
Naomi Bulliard, 44, who works for the Centre for Sustainable Fashion, with her partner Alex and children, Kaya, 10, and Jackson, seven
Life has been a lot less hectic. Before, we’d rush out the door every morning and then cook, clean, bed, repeat every night, barely stopping to appreciate each other or see our kids. But there’s been no shouting since lockdown. It’s made me realise: I don’t just love my children, I really like spending time with them. We’ve also realised we can’t work and school them 100%, so we don’t, and that’s OK. We’re prioritising our emotional wellbeing. Our community has come together too. It’s taught us we don’t need to own everything: sharing is fine and more sustainable.
Lauryn Etheridge (on left), 34, a museum interpretation manager, with Laura Carter, 37, co-founder of Treesplease Games, and their 21-month-old son, Morris
I was furloughed in April so I look after Morris while Laura is at her desk every morning working nonstop until dinner. Being in lockdown with a child is so up and down: one minute you feel you’re really nailing parenting; the next you worry you’re not doing what’s best for them. Neither of us imagined ourselves as stay-at-home parents, it’s too hard! But, over the weeks, we have adapted and, as a result, we feel much stronger about our parenting overall. Most of our time is spent keeping our toddler happy so we struggle to do the things we actually enjoy, but when we get the chance we’re trying to read rather than just watch TV. There’s something more satisfying about finishing a great book versus bingeing on Netflix.
Parisa Alishahi, 33, is a solicitor living with her brother, Payman, who works in healthcare
My brother is living with me during lockdown so we can keep each other company. We’ve found having another adult to interact with has kept us sane. Our lives were so busy before that we rarely spent quality time together, which is something I’ve loved about lockdown; the way it has brought us back to our families. On the other hand, it’s disrupted my dating life. Before this, I’d been on a few dates with a guy, but it’s been difficult to move it on over Facetime. However, I’m hopeful this will remove the superficial side of dating. People can’t impress with fancy restaurants now we only have natural settings, like parks. I’m looking forward to dating becoming more about the individual.
Genna, 37, an anaesthetic nurse, is married to Andy. They have two children – Billy (above), five, and Seb, one
Life is very strange. I’m working but had two long periods off for isolation. Andy has been furloughed from his retail job, but the upside is we’ve never had this amount of time together as a family. Seeing Seb change daily is amazing. Now I’m back at work, supplies of PPE are a concern and I worry I’m putting my family at greater risk. It’s made me realise I shouldn’t worry about money or education. It’s our health that matters the most.
Khadijeh Hassanzadeh, 28, lives with her husband Mohsen and their three children, Arvin, nine, Mohamad, five, and three-month-old Olivia
As asylum seekers, we have lived with insecurity for a long time, so perhaps we are more adaptable. We contact our family online, but this distance is normal for us, sadly. We fled Iran for the survival of our family and arrived in the UK in September after a very tough journey through makeshift refugee camps. Legally, we are not allowed to work, which is very difficult mentally, but luckily we have wonderful friends here who offer help.
Both Mohsen and Arvin have been ill with coronavirus symptoms, so we all stayed in one room for 20 days. Now we spend our days studying and playing with the children, but we worry about them. Arvin misses school and Mohammad has epilepsy and autism and needs immediate treatment. After the fear we experienced in Iran and the conditions we survived getting to the UK, we now just long for the virus to be eradicated so we can live in peace and our children can be happy.
Lidia Sakarapani, 41, an events manager, lives with fiancé Robert and their son Sammy, three
The day this picture was taken was meant to be our wedding day. After three years of planning, we should have been in Italy with friends and family from all over the world. It’s heartbreaking. A few days earlier, I dashed to pick up my dress just before the shop closed indefinitely. Now it hangs in my wardrobe, taunting me. This period has tested us, but it’s also made us vow to spend more time with our son, rekindle old friendships over Zoom and brought us closer as a community. My 87-year-old neighbour is lonely and scared, so I cook for her and we chat at a distance. Postponing our wedding has been hard, but our priority is staying safe.
Alana Ajani, 41, a civil servant, with her husband Yusuff and their sons, Ilyas, five, and Noah, two
Lockdown has been beautifully challenging. I’ve loved every second of getting to know my children more and watching them grow and change. But it’s difficult trying to be a wife and mother while working full-time. We try to draw a line: one of us retreats to the cabin in the garden to work, while the other watches the boys. In reality, the boundaries are blurred, but I’ve found that it has strengthened our relationship. We’ve had to pull together in ways we never had to before.
Kaitlin Wild, 25, a musician and music teacher, is in lockdown with four friends, also musicians
Five musicians in a four-bed house has felt like a bit of a noisy, busy squeeze at times, but we’re lucky we’re close and get on well. A few weeks ago, we started playing songs for our street at 8pm on a Thursday, as everyone came out to clap the NHS. We love the sense of community it brings. People walk up the road to hear us; one neighbour films it and has said his Facebook goes crazy after he uploads the videos; we’ve been told a paramedic nearby finds it comforting after long shifts. One week, an ambulance with its sirens on sped by as we played, which felt like a powerful reminder of why we are doing this. I miss my friends and family, but music is keeping us connected, too. I played for my grandad down the phone for his birthday last week.