It’s the title of a comic strip in the Guardian by French feminist artist Emma.
It beautifully describes a thing I’ve been clumsily groping towards for years. When you have all of the stuff for everyone in the house in your head, most of the responsibility for getting things done and, still, the need to go and work full-time. You’re too damn tired to negotiate with anyone else to get something done and things falling out of your brain is becoming a serious problem.
This. This is what I’m talking about.
Now it has a name. Mental load. Rejoice, it’s the first step to tackling it.
How can I raise feminists and have a clean house?
And the slightly desperate: What’s the point of feminism when so many men are shit?