filling the silence in the motherhood discussion
Facebook has been the topic of many Whiny Wednesday rants, and rightly so. Social media in general has perpetuated a myth of happiness that can make any kind of pain feel worse. So this week, our topic is this:
“The Illusion of Other People’s Perfect Lives”
Let us know how you feel.
Jane P reminded of this article by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman that I posted some time ago, one I think is worth re-running from time-to-time. It’s a good reminder about how not to say the wrong thing to someone in crisis. I wish it was mandatory reading for everyone, and I especially wish it came with a note explaining that it applies when talking to infertiles and the childless-not-by-choice.
The gist of their Ring Theory is that the person in crisis is at the center of the ring and those next closest to the person occupy subsequent rings. In the case of someone coming to terms with not having children, she would be at the center, her spouse or partner on the next ring, perhaps closest family and friends on the next, and more distant family, coworkers, and acquaintances beyond that.
The rule is that that if people have something mean or insensitive or opinionated to say, they say it to someone on a bigger ring. When speaking to someone on a smaller ring, they can only listen or—if they must say something—offer help, support, or comfort. No advice, no miracle stories, no blame or shame. No offering of their kids, no suggestions to adopt. “I’m sorry” is all that needs to be said. If they want to dump, dump outwards, not inwards.
I wish people would understand that someone who has just acknowledged she won’t ever have children is in crisis, and what she needs more than judgment and unhelpful help is for people to say to the right thing.
Our private community now boasts more than 3,000 members and I’m extremely proud of the support and camaraderie we offer one another.
Periodically, someone leaves and I wish her a silent farewell and good luck. Members don’t often fill in the note about why they’re leaving, but when they do, it’s usually along the lines of “Yippee! I’m pregnant. See you later, sucka!”
Ok, it’s never like that, but you get the idea. Women generally leave Life Without Baby to pursue life with baby, and I have to admit that it always stings a little.
Recently, though, one member left and gave this wonderful reason:
“I am moving on from my identity as a childless woman.”
I wanted to throw her a party. She’s not leaving because she’s no longer a childless woman; she’s leaving because she no longer wants to carry around that label and all the stigma and resentment that can come along with it. She’s moving on, I assume, to embrace her life as a woman, with all its facets.
We play many roles in our lives and carry an assortment of identities. Sometimes those identities no longer suit us and we have to let them go. And while I’m sorry to lose a member, I truly wish her nothing but a wonderful life.
I’ve been dating. Friend dating that is. As you can imagine, it’s been a challenge.
Last year, Mr. Fab and I moved to a new city at the opposite end of the state. As part of the move, I prepared myself for “friend dating” getting myself out into social situations where I could meet new people and hopefully make good friends.
Friend dating is hard enough, but I think it’s doubly so, when children won’t be common ground on which you can build a friendship. Irrespective of this handicap, I’ve been making an effort to meet new people. I joined a gym and have been challenging myself to strike up a conversation with someone new every time I go.
Last week, while I was waiting for my class to start, I smiled at a friendly-looking woman and initiated a conversation. It was general ice-breaking chit-chat, a comment about how the class seemed lighter today and that the traffic had been heavier on my drive over because the Junior College was back in session.
“Oh right,” she said. “I wondered about that. I drop off my daughter at the school and then drive my little one to pre-school and it took me ages this morning.”
Before I ping-pong a comment back or ask her a getting-to-know-you question, another woman stepped into the conversation and said, “Oh, you have a preschooler? I have a preschooler, where does yours go?”
And then she quite literally stepped into the conversation. She all but put her body between me and my potential new friend, as if I wasn’t even there.
In the past, I would have been devastated. You know the feeling when your heart sinks, your stomach sinks lower, and your entire body follows along. I would have felt dejected, rejected, ashamed, and worthless. I would have slinked away to my little childless corner and stayed there feeling worthless.
But I didn’t. I laughed. Out loud.
Because it finally dawned on me, it’s not about me, it’s not about my childlessness. It’s not even about moms elbowing us out of their important conversations.
It’s about one self-centered and pretty bad mannered individual on a mission to find her tribe, to fulfill her wants and needs, in this case to find a sympathetic ear to listen to her woes about moving her kid to a new school in the fall. She definitely wasn’t going to find that in me.
And the truth is, I was doing a similar thing. I was putting out feelers, looking for common ground, trying to fill my own needs and find my tribe. And these women, the second one especially, weren’t going to fulfill those needs.
The whole ludicrous situation made me realize just how far I’ve come. This year will mark nine years since I got off the baby crazy train. It’s a long time, but I’m happy to report that the Mom Snub bounced off me in a way I never could have imagined nine years ago.
Still, this puts me back in the friend dating game again. But it helped me realize that moms aren’t the enemy, it’s just that I need to find woman—childless or otherwise—for whom motherhood isn’t the sole focus of their existence at this time in their lives.
Maybe in 15 years or so, once she’s packed her kid off to college, her priorities will change. Maybe then we can become friends then.
If I’m not too busy with all my other new friends.
This week’s topic is another tender subject:
The constant struggle of feeling my life is imperfect because of not having children.
How do you feel about this? Has that feeling changed with the passing of time?
As always, the floor is open for any other whines and rants you need to get off your chest.
This week is World Childless Week. Founded by Stephanie Phillips, this online event raises awareness and supports the childless not by choice community.
Stephanie says, “Childless men and women from around the world are starting to find their inner voice to speak out, and reach out, to those who hide their childlessness for fear of shame and judgement. Childlessness is an unrecognized, but large and growing, minority that the world can no longer shy away from. When women in their seventies tell me they are grateful to find a supportive community for the first time in their life it reinforces the need to create more awareness that help is available from those who understand”.
I couldn’t agree more. It may feel sometimes like we are still living in the shadows, that we are misunderstood, and misjudged, but people like Stephanie are changing that. And the more we talk about this topic, the more we get involved in these events, the sooner that will change.
This year World Childless Week will take place from 16-22nd September. Each day explores a different element of being childless: our stories, letters about forgiveness, using art to release emotions, men matter too, how we have empathy, finding our worth in society and how to move forwards.
You can find out more information and join the week’s events at worldchildlessweek.net
One of the biggest challenges I encountered on the road to making peace with my childlessness was how to find joy in my life again. For a long time, everything seemed meaningless if children weren’t part of my equation. I didn’t want to have fun; I didn’t want to pick up childhood interests; I didn’t want to face the seemingly epic task of building a life I hadn’t planned on leading. Where to even start?
Last year, my dear friend and fellow Life Without Baby editor, Kathleen Guthrie Woods, launched a new project called 52 Nudges. Each week, Kathleen “nudges” herself to try something outside her current norm. Some weeks, she’s nudged herself to rekindle an old love, such as going for a picnic or buying a houseplant. Other weeks she’s pushed herself out of her rut by trying something new—wearing red lipstick, learning a phrase in Italian, signing up for a pilates class. Each week, Kathleen posts her nudge for the week, then posts a follow-up of what happened when she did the nudge. What started off as an idea designed to nudge herself out of a rut has turned into an adventure of self-discovery.
When you’re trying to find your feet again and struggling to reshape your life, it can feel overwhelming. Taking tiny steps like these might not seem significant, but sometimes it’s all you can do, and sometimes it’s enough to force a bigger step to change.
If you’re struggling with what’s next or don’t know how to even begin piecing your life back together, I urge you to watch this interview with Kathleen.
Kathleen started a new season of nudges this week, so now is the perfect to join her. You might be surprised by what you learned about yourself.
You can read more at 52 Nudges.
If you’re new to the site, you might wondering what Whiny Wednesday is all about.
A few years ago, some readers commented that they couldn’t express how they felt around friends and colleagues, as they were always made to feel as if they were whining. So, we created Whiny Wednesday as a safe place to vent about about whatever’s on your mind each week. It can be an issue surrounding living without children, or just a general grumble about life, work, family, the world.
I used to start each post with a gripe of my own, but lately I’ve found I’ve covered most of what bothers me, so I put out a call for Whiny Wednesday topics, and you, dear readers, came through! So, each week, I offer one of your suggested topics as a starting point, but as always, any topic is fair game.
So, let’s kick off with this week’s topic:
Parents who respond to hearing that you don’t have children with, “Do you want mine?”
Happy whining!
Thanks to Iris for forwarding this article about living happily without children.
I love this author’s attitude to the hand she’s been dealt. At first read, she seems almost flippant about her inability to have children, but she’s packed a whole life story into one article, and reading between the lines, it’s clear to see the pain she felt, the struggles she and her partner went through in coming-to-terms with being childfree, and the attitudes she still has to endure from others. But her whole outlook was encapsulated in this paragraph:
“We didn’t get to have something. We had 2 choices as a result of that – let it control, dictate and sadden the rest of our lives or find something else to do instead. Either way, we still wouldn’t get to have kids. So which is the best choice?”
Are you still struggling to come to terms with your own situation and feeling that childlessness is “controlling, dictating, and saddening” your life? If so, can you see what your “find something else to do instead” could be? And could you do it?
I don’t this author is trivializing the blow she was dealt – far from it – but I love that she’s found a way to turn her situation to her advantage. What do you think?
~ "a raw, transparent account of the gut-wrenching journey of infertility."
~ "a welcome sanity check for women left to wonder how society became so fixated on motherhood."
