I used to be such a badass. Don’t get me wrong, I never cheated on my husband or even smoked a cigarette, but I loved being a rebel without a cause. Turning up late, ignoring rules, wearing tons of eyeliner and rolling my eyes at authority – that kind of thing.
Then everything changed when I had kids.
My bratty habits had to go. Even though their eyes and ears were tiny, I knew that my children were seeing and hearing everything that I did. So, no more blasting Jay-Z (“I want a wife that f***s me like a prostitute”) in the car. It would be sugar-sweet, teen Taylor Swift (“You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess”) all the way now.
Yet every now and then, I’ll accidentally slip back into my bad girl ways, and be forced to ask myself: am I just faking being a “good person”, for the sake of my kids?