SAHM - privilege or sacrifice?

I’ve never been a working mum. Not in the traditional sense anyway. My husband and I have built side hustles together over the years, but as far as clocking in and out for an employer who pays into a superannuation fund? Nope.

I’ve been a stay-at-home mum for two and a half years and there are two comments I hear more than any others. “You’re privileged to be able to do that in today’s economy” and “I could never stay home with my kids all day.” The first assumes being a SAHM is a luxury. The second assumes it’s a punishment.

The truth is, being a stay-at-home mum is both a privilege and a sacrifice, but probably not in the ways most people think. “Privilege” makes it sound unearned. “Sacrifice” makes it sound like you give up more than you receive in return. So let me dispel a few myths, at least from my own experience, about how some families are making the SAHM framework work in the shitstorm economy of 2026.

Because we didn’t choose less money. We chose time. Time costs money. That’s the trade-off.

Sacrifices up the wazoo 

The truth is, being a SAHM is both a privilege and a sacrifice but probably not in the ways most people assume. For me, the sacrifices came first, long before any privilege was ever seen. Yes, we can survive off of one income but that’s not because my husband makes enough money to sustain a quarter of a million dollars worth of expenses a year. It’s quite the opposite. He makes a modest $80K a year (Australian dollars of course) but we have expenses to match. What I mean is, we don’t have the expenses most families at our stage of life have to deal with. 

We rent, by choice. We could jump into the mortgage game like everyone else but honestly, the financial bind that puts us in requires us both to work. We want me home to raise the kids fulltime, so, home ownership is on the backburner. We have one car and it’s a 13 year old used car at that. But don’t get it twisted, it’s our dream car. No, it’s not a Merc or Tesla or gorgeous EV 7-seater in a sexy colour but it’s ours and paid outright. We saved, we waited, we made do with the smaller and less convenient car we had until we were in the position to get the one we have always wanted and needed. And yes, during the day that means the kids and I are restricted to walking everywhere or braving public transport if I’m feeling unusually confident that day. 

Neither of us enjoy the luxuries most of our friends and family do. Beauty treatments, make up, branded clothing, new tech, latest decor trends, specialty power tools… the list goes on. We either go without, buy secondhand, buy “off brand” versions, or borrow from a friend when we need it. Would I love a bathroom filled with the best Korean skincare, bougie make up and a wardrobe of current trend clothes that actually fit? Hell yes. Instead I make do with supermarket facewash and thrift clothes like it’s a sport. Would my husband froth having a garage with a sick work bench and power tools galore while having a home office with an insane monitors set up. Also hell yes. He makes do with essential tools and marketplace finds to fit out the garage. The real question we ask ourselves is,  do we want those things more than having me stay home with our kids every day? No we don’t. So going without actually  just feels a trade off instead of missing out all together. 

Meals aren't glamorous. It’s not a collection of choice cuts of meat and high end brands. It’s buying in bulk, generic brands and making meals stretch by adding in beans, lentils, chickpeas. Anything that gives us another four serves, I’m doing it. I’d be fibbing if I went as far as to say we don’t eat out because we do, but it’s measured. It’s not going to a restaurant and getting entrees, mains, drinks and desserts. It’s going to cheaper local spots, getting a main, sharing parts of our meals with the kids and no one gets a drink. “Water for the table thanks,” is a sentence we’ve said every time we’ve gone out for a meal. 

The sacrifices we make aren’t being made from a high horse either. More often than I’d like to admit, we daydream about what we’d have if we both worked and we had the kids in daycare. Recently a couple we know in the same stage of life as us bought a new car for their growing family. It’s flash, has all the latest tech and expensive. Everyone congratulated them. Meanwhile, we get our dream car that we couldn’t be prouder of but because it’s used and more than a decade old, it’s not congratulations. It’s “oh, nice.” In a non-sarcastic way I find it hilarious that you’re congratulated for taking on debt in the pursuit of owning something that you can’t own outright yet. Signing up for debt is praised more than saving and spending within your means. Maybe I’m the weird one here but I just don’t get that. 

Despite the daydreaming, we always end up reflecting on the same point. Would we trade what we have with the kids everyday at this stage of their lives for stuff and things? Nah man, we wouldn’t. 

Acknowledge your privilege

Whether it’s in person or on social media, those who have a different set up seem to see “SAHM” and “privilege” as synonymous. And I get it. The economy is (pardon my french) fucked. I won’t spiral into a rant about how everything has been designed to only be achievable with a dual income household. What I will say is, many of us aren’t dripping in disposable income. We’re much more likely to be part of the group of undesirables. And no one really talks about that part. 

It must just be my algorithm feeding into my silo, but the SAHM content I see romanticises the role… a lot. Most social media content looks like B-roll footage of a naturally beautiful woman wearing minimal make up, adorable home sewn clothes with an apron, feeding her sour dough starter and making DIY washing powder on a Thursday morning for shits and giggles. And while I love the whimsy of it all, it’s not my reality. I struggle to keep the house even a few pegs short of a respectable state on a daily basis. With a velcro baby and toddler occupying it 24/7, I have exactly negative two hours to pursue homemade breads, holistic tinctures for the cold and flu season and deep clean my bathroom even though it’s in desperate need of it. 

Most don’t see the constant checking of Facebook Marketplace for kids items you’re hoping someone will sell at a decent (not delusional) price. They don’t see the frantic searching through racks at Savers, praying at least one of the dresses spanning back to the 80’s will not only fit but not look too obviously preloved because you need something to wear to a wedding. We don’t show the AI searches asking ChatGPT how we can create a more balanced diet for our kids without blowing out the grocery bill to over $300 a week because that’s simply an undoable number. Where the privilege comes in is having the opportunity to figure those things out. The privilege is in developing resilience and fierce determination to make things work. The privilege is time, not money, not luxuries or status. Time with the kiddos that you can’t get back. 

And how is all of that perceived by the outside world? In exchange for no breaks, ever increasing expectations and trying your hardest to make everything work on a limited income, you get more never ending needs of your tiny tyrants while your adult peers place you at the bottom of the totem poll of contributing members to society. That’s a stitch up if ever I heard of one. 

A harder one to cop is when some working mums vocalise feeling this way about SAHMs too. Compared to their work stress, managing their home and getting the kids sorted in the spare pockets of time, being a SAHM seems like the easiest route. And I see that too. But here’s the thing, no one says Daycare workers, Au Pairs or Nanny’s have it easy. They’re respected for their skill, patience, nurturing and ability to deal with kids all day by choice. Make that make sense when that’s the same choice a SAHM has made plus extra responsibilities, all without clocking out day or night. 

Yes, it’s a privilege to love and raise my kids everyday. I wouldn’t swap it for anything, including three times our household income (which is what we’d earn if we were both working). But this “privilege” is achieved without excessive disposable income. It’s very much earned every day, if not every minute. 

Flipping the coin

I always try to play devil's advocate for my own biases. Working mums have a different set of challenges. Preparation, organisation, compartmentalisation, number of hats being worn all at the same time and sheer grit of getting through a work day with coherent thoughts while running on broken to no sleep, I mean come on, a man could never.

Working mums get the benefit of having more of the things they want and need, because, well, they earned it. Treat yourself to a hairdressers appointment, nail appointment or pick up some new bits and bobs on your way past Mecca, yes girl. You earned that bag, do what you want to do with it. Dressing the kids in gorgeous brands, sending them to great daycares and giving them experiences money gives you access to -  your hard work pays off. Home owner security instead of worrying about a landlord deciding to sell the house from under you or increasing your rent just because they can. Peace of mind from living situation security, you working mums have got that on lock.  

The benefits of a dual income household are not lost on me. I’m all for women who want to continue to build their careers, own their identity outside of motherhood and be appreciated for the intelligent and incredibly capable person they are. I’m watching on the sidelines, cheering for you and in awe of how great you all are. But putting down my devil's advocate hat for a second, I have to say, sadly, that support doesn’t always feel reciprocated. Maybe I’m a little naive in wishing mums of all sorts would choose to be supportive of each other while we all grit our teeth and navigate this bumpy motherhood ride.

Same same, but different 

So, is being a SAHM a sacrifice or a privilege? It’s a trick question, because it’s both in a lot of ways. But so is being a working mum too. Realistically, the uncomfortable truth is it isn’t about sacrifice or privilege at all. It’s about values. As a SAHM, we had to trade in a lot for me to stay home with the kids. House? Trade. Cars? Trade. Clothes? Trade. Disposable income? Trade. Career progression? Trade. Because the currency we’re working with isn’t for buying stuff. But it does buy us presence. And for me personally, that’s more valuable to me than anything right now. 

At the end of the day, motherhood is going to be one of the most challenging things most woman doing. Wouldn’t it be dope if we could all support each other regardless of the path we’ve chosen through it?