Would you choose to work if your husband was rich enough to support you?
Meet three (very comfortably-off) mums who do — and try not to scream
THEY have a detached fourbedroom family home replete with all the latest gadgets for their two teenage children, two executive cars in the drive and enjoy foreign holidays several times a year. Sue Pearson’s husband, Dave, earns enough in his IT management job to provide his family with the best — and more besides. And that leaves Sue in the highly privileged position of not needing to work.
But far from jumping at the chance to evade the daily grind, the 50-year-old, who says maternity leave was ‘boring’, puts in 40 hours a week earning significantly less than her husband as a writer for scientific journals.
‘I appreciate we are very fortunate,’ says Sue from her home in the picture-postcard village of Ickleford, Hertfordshire. ‘But relaxing is something I find difficult to do.
‘Does my husband wish he had a stay-athome wife? Possibly. He’s for ever telling me: “You need to reign it back.” I think he’d prefer it if I wasn’t stressed all the time.
‘But I have ability and talent. I genuinely believe if I don’t do my job then I am depriving the workplace of my skill.’
As puzzling as her stance may be for the many harried mothers juggling work with family life, Sue is not alone. More and more women are choosing to endure long working hours — even though they don’t need to.
A recent British Social Attitudes Survey found a staggering 62 per cent of us would keep going into the office even if we didn’t need the money.
Some put this down to how the post-feminist movement has devalued home-making and stay-at-home motherhood — as opposed to an increased enjoyment of work.
Women increasingly feel that relying on men financially is somehow shameful.
Official figures show the proportion of women who are stay-at-home mothers has dropped by more than a third in the past two decades to a historic low. According to Office for National Statistics data released last year, only one woman in ten now raises a family this way.
Dr SANDI MANN, psychology lecturer at the University of Central Lancashire, explains: ‘Working, middle-class mothers today aren’t necessarily interested in earning lots of money. They have recognised that they are valued if they work. ‘Even though they are introducing more stress into their family’s lives, it’s a very effective quick-fix boost to their own self-esteem.
‘These women will typically be type A personalities — extremely motivated individuals who are driven perfectionists.’
Ask self-confessed ‘perfectionist’ Sue where she is happiest, and the answer isn’t on a sun-drenched beach or revelling in quality family time. It’s toiling away in what she calls her ‘she-cave’.
‘I had it built last year,’ she explains. ‘We converted our garage so I could have my own office. It cost more than £10,000 and it was worth every penny.
‘It’s bright and airy with an exquisite view of the garden. It’s my oasis and most-loved part of the house.’
Sue typically works up to 40 hours a week. Each evening she’ll spend half an hour cooking the meal, ensuring the family eat together, but she’ll be hard at work both before and afterwards.
As for family chores, Sue outsources the ironing and cleaning, and cajoles her children into mowing the lawn. Her husband cooks at the weekends, too.
Children Louis, 16, and Sophie, 13, regularly have to coerce Sue out of her haven to join them and Dave, 52, for weekly family film nights.
‘They phone me in my office and guilt-trip me into finishing up,’ Sue admits. ‘But I love what I do; it often comes above everything else.
‘If working up to 40 hours a week makes me a workaholic then I’m proud of it. I’d lose my identity without it. I don’t know how women can choose that option.’
The Pearsons’ combined salary exceeds £100,000 — of which Dave contributes at least 70 per cent. In comparison, therefore, Sue’s earnings are mere ‘pin money’.
So why does she persist? It’s a decision many of us who dream of escaping the rat race simply cannot fathom.
A Government study earlier this year found that more than a third of working mothers would give up to stay at home and look after their children if they could afford to.
Of her own friends, Sue says: ‘All of my girlfriends work, even if they don’t need to.
‘I’m not friendly with other mothers who don’t work. I have to pick up my children from two different schools, but I don’t have time to gossip. And there’s only so much you can say about gel manicures.’
As well as ferrying the children to and from school, Sue’s flexible hours allow her to work from home, with meetings either in Europe or in the UK once a fortnight.
She admits she will always respond to the siren call of work: if there’s a clash with the school run, a friend or her husband will help out by collecting the children instead.
So has Sue always been so career-driven?
She and Dave met in 1985 at Brunel University in London, where she studied biochemistry and he read biology. They married in 1988 and Sue spent more than a decade working on her PhD, while building up her career in public relations in the life sciences sector.
When Louis was born in 2000, she took three months’ maternity leave.
‘I did think I might become a full-time mum. But I was bored after two weeks,’ she says. ‘So I became a science writer for specialist journals, covering everything from biotechnology to stem-cell research.’
Despite their wealth, Sue and Dave have chosen not to send their children to private schools.
SHE says: ‘Both their schools are Ofsted outstanding-rated establishments. I did consider one private school in the area, but it’s far too bohemian and happy-clappy for my children. They need — and get — academic rigour.’
But they do splash out on family holidays, enjoying breaks at fivestar resorts in far-flung destinations such as Mexico and Barbados.
‘This summer we swam with dolphins,’ says Sue. ‘Sophie and I also enjoyed no-expense-spared motherand-daughter massages.’
Not that Sue finds it easy to switch off, even on luxury family breaks. ‘I enjoy being busy. I adore the challenges of my job,’ Sue says.
‘My husband is already talking about retirement. The thought terrifies me. What would I do?
‘He has an allotment where he potters after work for an hour or so, and the children are on their computers or tablets, or finishing off their homework. My evenings are spent in the office, where I conference-call Australia and the U.S.’
Like Sue, 46-year-old Heidi reid could afford to be a stay-at-home mum. But three years ago she launched her own business as a wedding accessory designer.
Until then she and husband, Tim, 47, had lived on his ‘very generous five-figure’ salary as a freelance comedy scriptwriter.
Tim, who is also a successful TV producer, is best known for cocreating the hit BBC1 series Car Share, starring Peter Kay. The couple have two children, Archie, 16, and Ava, 13, and Heidi was ‘lucky enough to have the luxury of staying at home with the children throughout their primary school years’.
So far, so perfect. But when Ava, who has Down’s syndrome, started mainstream secondary school at 11, Heidi decided she wanted a new ‘challenge’ — and in her mind that meant a job.
Before children, she’d gained a degree in creative arts. A trip to London’s V&A museum inspired her to create a bridal tiaras business.
Since 2013, when she made the first one for her sister-in-law, it’s been running at full tilt.
But Heidi admits family life has been ‘compromised’.
‘All of the family have had to get used to me not being there for them,’ she says. ‘I have missed Christmas plays and school football matches, whereas before I was a school governor and successfully campaigned to keep a local primary school open.’
Tim’s salary doesn’t just allow the family to live in a three-bedroom home in Bollington, on the edge of the Peak District in Cheshire.
Heidi also drives a Mercedes estate and her wardrobe is full of designer labels. Which probably goes some way to explaining why even her female friends have struggled to take her working life seriously.
‘At first my friends thought it was just a hobby. They’d for ever drop into my studio for coffee and a chat. I’ve had to point out to them that this is work — it’s my career.’
Yet while Heidi regularly works up to 40 hours a week, she doesn’t draw a penny from her company.
She says this is part of her strategy to slowly build up the business so she can hire an employee to help in the studio. ‘Tim is supportive, but he isn’t happy about me working in the evenings,’ she says.
During the day, Heidi will work from 10am to 4pm.
‘After we’ve had dinner at 7.30pm, I’ll typically start working again and keep going for a couple of hours,’ she adds. ‘Tim thinks that should be our time together as a family.’
‘He leads a very glamorous life attending award ceremonies, and for work he also routinely rubs shoulders with actors and actresses for work.
‘My job gives me something other than the children to talk about with him,’ she says.
‘I do get frustrated because people don’t understand that while we don’t need my income to enjoy a wonderful life, this isn’t about the money — it’s about my selfworth and doing something I feel passionate about.’
Heidi does, indeed, enjoy a ‘wonderful life’. Not only does her husband pay for the cars, their home and her enviable wardrobe, the family goes abroad on holiday at least once a year, and Heidi and Tim also take regular weekend breaks together.
‘Does Tim spoil me? Yes!’ she exclaims. ‘There is a spa in a stately home nearby where we go to recharge for the weekend. We’ll have massage treatments, a wonderful meal and the phones are switched off. He is very generous.’
BuT despite this, Heidi is still intent on building her business. The wedding season is stressful, while weekend work is obligatory and involves visiting and promoting her business at wedding fairs all over the country.
‘I’m determined to see one of my pieces on a Cheshire celebrity bride or on BBC’s Strictly,’ she says.
Dr Mann understands why women like Heidi insist on working so hard, even when it brings them no financial advantage.
She says that for the privileged few, employment is no longer viewed as a means to pay the bills: ‘For many women, it’s all about selffulfillment and feeling as though you are reaching your potential.
‘Today, to be thought of as a kept woman has all sorts of negative connotations — terms such as WAGs, gold-diggers or trophy wives. No one woman wants to be associated with such an image in the current climate.’
Such rationale explains why Lizzie Falconer, 51, refuses to join the ladies who lunch in her pretty Suffolk estuary town of Woodbridge.
‘I’ve tried and failed to blend in with some of the mothers who don’t work. There are a number of them who frequent the local coffee shops throughout the day.
‘We’re similar in that most of our husbands work in London during the week. But that’s where any common ground ends.
‘I find it baffling that they choose to while away their lives like that. I need to stay mentally stimulated.’
Lizzie, who works as a hypnotherapist and helps people with addiction and phobias, has been married to Mike, who is in his late 40s, for 20 years. They have three children: Alex, 27, Sam, 19, and Louisa, 15.
‘I love my children and I adore my husband, but I have to have my financial independence. I see my income as a way of spoiling us.’
Mike, who is a partner with a media consultancy firm, is London-based for two to three nights a week. ‘I don’t see him during the week, and there is only my daughter and I at home now,’ says Lizzie. ‘If I didn’t have my clients, what would I do otherwise? Work helps me come to terms with the fact that empty-nest syndrome is beckoning.’
Lizzie claims that she doesn’t know what her husband earns — ‘he’s the whizz with figures, not me’ — but his salary covers the mortgage on their five-bedroom home and all of their bills. When his job takes him all over the world, he’ll often return home with an expensive gift for her.
‘And last year, for my 50th, he surprised me by commissioning the most beautiful painting by my favourite artist.’
Lizzie works from the third storey of their house, but it’s not unusual for her to work seven days a week, and she typically sees at least four clients a day, charging £40 an hour for a consultation. It’s this income that allows her to go on retreats to far-flung destinations such as India, where she travelled last year.
‘I’ll also fund our holidays to the Latitude festival. It usually costs us £2,000 once we’ve bought five tickets, hired a camper van and set aside funds for food and drink.
‘There are stressful moments with my job, but it’s incredibly rewarding. I get to help people change their lives for the better. I make a difference — it’s absolutely not about the money.’
How wonderful not to have the worry of balancing the books.
But while these women believe the added ‘bonus’ of a challenging career is what makes them truly happy, others closer to home disagree.
Take Sue Pearson’s daughter, Sophie. Will she follow in her mother’s over-worked footsteps? Not likely.
‘It pains me to say this,’ says Sue, ‘but she has no intention of becoming a workaholic like me.’