'My friend called me a bad mum. The reason why is a ridiculous double standard.'

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I'm a single mum-of-three and I earn a living as a stand-up comedian. Which means I'm often away on the road, travelling around the country and even overseas to perform my shows.

I share custody with my ex-husband. We do a week-on, week-off roster. When the kids are with me, he's usually working away for his job. When he's home, I use that time to tour and make my money.

But you wouldn't believe how differently people treat us. In theory, we're both doing the same thing: working away from our kids to support them.

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In practice? He's called hardworking. I'm called a bad mum.

There have been times, as a single mum, that I've struggled financially and money used to be a constant source of stress.

There were many times I had to borrow money from family and friends just to cover rent and buy groceries.

Every time I had to do it I would feel so ashamed, and feared I would never break out of it.

I remember standing in the supermarket once, trying to work out how to spend my last $17 to cover dinner and school lunches before I got paid again.

That feeling of not being able to provide has stuck with me.

Those experiences lit a fire in me and I've been determined to do whatever it takes to ensure I never have to feel that powerless again.

Comedy is helping me do that. After years of grinding away at open-mics and unpaid gigs, slowly, it started paying off.

I can finally support my family without that constant panic of running out of money — and for the first time, I can give my kids experiences I've only ever dreamed of.

Now, I put on shows across Australia, and I use it to pay to bring my kids, and give them a holiday.

We're making amazing memories thanks to my work as a comedian. These are things I could never have afforded back when I first became a single mum.

But comedy isn't a "work from home" job.

My work means touring, festivals, and constant flights. It means I can't always bring the kids.

Last year, I spent five weeks in the UK for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Earlier this year I was in Adelaide and Melbourne for the big comedy festivals.

On those trips, the kids were with their dad when it was his week. So it's only one or two weeks at most that were on my time with the kids; I had friends and relatives all chipping in to look after them — so no one had to carry it by themselves.

Whenever I've had to be away, I've always made up the time when I got home and spent extra weeks with my children. My kids have never actually lost time with me overall. On paper, they have spent more time with me than their Dad, but no one is judging him.

Was it easy? No.

Of course, I've missed them, and they've missed me too.

There have been heart-wrenching video calls across time-zones with lots of tears.

The last time I went away for a few weeks was earlier this year, and the guilt hit me so hard. I promised myself I'd plan future tours only on my kid-free weeks when they are with their Dad — alongside, at the most, adding a weekend here and there purely to make touring more cost-effective.

Image: Supplied.

I didn't have that luxury before, as being new to comedy, I had to take whatever I was given with venues and festival dates. But despite all of that, I'm still judged.

I get asked questions constantly. At school pick-up, from family and friends, even from people in my audience.

"Who has the kids when you're away?"

"That must be so hard on them."

Whether people mean it or not, the undertone is always the same: what kind of mother leaves her kids?

Here's the kicker though: I've never once heard anyone say the same about their dad.

My ex goes away for work, and people call him hardworking. They sympathise with how much he must miss the kids.

When he does it, he is sacrificing time to provide for his family and is admired for it.

But when I do the same? I'm selfish. Unmotherly. A 'bad mum'.

Recently, I found out a woman I thought was a friend had been talking about me behind my back, telling people: "Her poor kids. She's never home. I could never leave my child like that. What kind of mother does that?"

I'll admit it stung at first.

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The truth is, I don't have the luxury of staying home. I'm the only income earner in my family. I'm four years into comedy, which in this industry is still pretty green, and yet I've built a full-time career from it.

That should be something to celebrate. I should feel proud of myself for how far I have come and what I have achieved. But instead, I do it with guilt hanging over me, because I know the whispers and the raised eyebrows are there.

And I'm tired of it.

When men work away, it's noble. When women do, it's neglect. We can all see the double standard, but it's mums like me who feel the weight of it.

Do I wish for a future where I can earn more without being away so much? Absolutely.

But right now, this is the best way I can provide. My kids don't just have a mum who loves them, they have a mum who is working hard now for our future, to give them stability, adventures, and a life full of amazing memories.

And that's nothing to be ashamed of.

Feature image: Supplied.