On Not Being a Mother

Every year, Mother's Day comes around, and those of us who are not mothers feel a range of emotions. Likewise, it can be a lonely day for those of us who have lost our mothers. I always think of my own mother, who died on May 23, 2006, and who I miss every day of my life. So there is sadness, gratitude, appreciation, some regret about things I never said or did, but mostly a sense of love -- and awareness that her love for me showed me how to love others. There are many people for whom this day brings just the opposite -- a wish that they had had a sympathetic, loving mother, or perhaps a wish that they had not known their mother at all, or that she had lived longer... I also have friends who have lost their children. What can this day be like for them? There are so many individual stories that deviate from the idealized picture painted by this observance we call "Mothers' Day," and for those people, all the glowing tributes can be extremely painful.

So, I'd like to speak about not being a mother. My mother would have liked me to have children, but I did not. She never said that this was a huge disappointment for her, but I know it was, and it makes me feel a certain amount of regret when I think of her. But it wasn't to be, and it wouldn't have been the best path for me. Looking back now, it's clear to me that not being a mother allowed me to be fully myself, earlier in my life, than many who spent several decades raising children. I was able to develop my talents and abilities from my twenties on, without feeling divided or conflicted, and to understand myself as an individual in ways that have often been reserved for men. I was also able to have a different relationship with my husband than many couples who are parents. Did we miss some of the most fulfilling and joyful aspects of a human life? Of course, but we also had a relationship that was extremely close in other ways. As a woman, did I miss one of the defining experiences of being female? For sure. But because there is a still such a societal taboo against speaking negatively about motherhood, or parenthood, few people talk openly about the positive aspects of being childless, and, in fact, being childless continues to carry a stigma in many societies.

Back in the 1970s and 1980s, I didn't see the point of bringing up girls to have dreams about what they wanted to do in life, and then making them settle for less in order to be mothers who would then bring up a new generation of girls with similar conflicts, facing similar obstacles. Very few of my friends were able to successfully or happily "have it all" at the same time -- marriage, motherhood, and a career on the same level as what men had. That was an illusion we had been fed, and it turned out to create many problems, not just for the women who thought they could do all three equally well, but for their relationships and for their children. If men and women are both going to work, then access to birth control is vitally important, and so is access to affordable daycare, laws to protect women against sexual harassments, and equal pay, equal rights, and equal opportunities for advancement in the workplace. This has not changed nearly enough in the intervening decades, and in some cases we are going backwards, to the detriment of women.

 

And on whom does the burden fall? In the printing industry, back when I was a graphic designer, there was a saying, often represented by a triangular graphic: "Price, Speed, Quality: pick any two." I've always felt this could be applied to women's lives with the triangle of "Career, Relationship, Motherhood."  The further you move toward any side of the triangle representing two points -- "Relationship and Career", for instance -- the harder it is to equally sustain "Motherhood". Prioritize "Relationship" and Motherhood", and it's harder to sustain "Career." Choose "Career" and "Motherhood", and you may jeopardize "Relationship." Mind you, I am mainly talking here about women who have a significant desire for their own, serious career, on the same level as men, and who don't hire other people to raise their children. And, to be fair, certainly in some areas of society today, men are doing much more childcare and home making than they did when I was a young woman.

Parenting is one of the most difficult and challenging tasks that anyone can take on, and it is getting harder, not easier, as our world becomes more complicated, more violent, and more uncertain. I am filled with admiration for those who try so hard to do it well, and for those who make enormous sacrifices on behalf of their children. For my husband and me, the question of whether it was responsible to bring children into the world was also a serious one. Loving him as I did, it was difficult for me not to have children with him: I wanted to give life to those people, to know them, to love them. So I am not here to judge anyone's choices, and I'm glad that there are still couples  -- and single people -- who choose to have children, and go into it with hope and courage. Let's also remember that there are many who did not make a deliberate choice to have children, but do have them, and are trying hard to be good parents, often with great difficulties.

But I also want to say to younger women: not having children is a valid choice, and you can have a fulfilling, happy, extremely rewarding life without being a mother. So don't let anyone talk you into doing it, or guilt you into it, if you don't want to, and try not to be sad and regretful if it is something you wanted that just didn't work out. Instead, try to see it as an opportunity, and do something positive with the freedom that you have.

I had, and still have, a lot of maternal instincts and desires. And I've found many ways for those to come out -- in relationships, in organizations, in mentoring, in giving. You don't have to be a parent in order to fulfill your natural desires, and in fact, sometimes you can do more, for more people, if you have greater freedom. 

In this era of recognizing gender and sexual diversity, I think we also need to recognize that there is not one, but a multitude of ways in which the fundamental relationship of  "Mother" and "Child" exists, and that while the idealized one may still be in the majority, it is not at all true or descriptive for a great many people -- so, please, be gentle and aware as we celebrate Mother's Day.

Comments

[Martine]

Thank you for this post, Beth.

My birthday is right around (and this year right on) Mother's Day. A friend sent me flowers today and the delivery guy wished me "a very happy mother's day". I went to buy a cake for dinner and ALL the cakes at the bakery counter, even the single portion ones, had "maman" or "bonne fête des mères" written on them. It was my choice not to have children, so I take this with a grain of salt. But I know it's a rough day for a lot of people...

[am]

Thank you for writing about not being a mother. As a woman who chose not to have children, I have no regrets and a full life which only grows fuller as I approach my mid-70s as an artist.

As you wrote, Mother's Day is a time to be gentle and aware, given the many ways that day is experienced emotionally, depending upon one's circumstances.

[Suzanne]

A wonderful post, Beth, expanding the idea of the archetypal "mother" the way the notion of love can be expanded well beyond romantic love and partnerships. I've known a mother of two who remained unfulfilled because a third child was not to be - her concept of fulfillment depended on that third child, but she kept miscarrying, and she was bereft for years - despite having two healthy children. I've read in the safety of anonymous print about mothers who regretted becoming mothers, or never wanted to become a mother in the first place. I had a friend who's sister left her four children and their father because she was suffering so much in her role. Becoming a mother is a natural, evolutionary process, yet it's also natural for some to not bear children, and we have the power of choice to guide our outcomes. Our conscious choices and intentionality are no guarantee of fulfillment; and biology may yield its surprises or make becoming a mother impossible. And then for parents, the challenges you're describing about finding fulfillment in balance are so prevalent - and not helped by the age of screentime. Every path has its blessings and challenges. I never thought of how we raise girls to aspire to careers only to have to put those careers aside, maybe permanently, to raise more girls who aspire ... as my mom did! There is love and beauty and sacredness in many forms of mothering, and giving nurturing and care to others, to animals, to the earth; giving life to works of art; as well as to our babies!

[Vanessa]

I so appreciated this post, Beth. Though I would like to believe I am not tugged in by the gravitational pull of a holiday and the conventions
and connotations that surround it, Mother's Day each year offers a bit of melancholy. As someone who lost her mom at a young age and as a mothering person who did not have children through a complex process, a choice that included ambivalence, I find myself a bit confused, conflicted, perhaps even excluded on that day. Reading your words brought me a bit of lightness and a feeling of good company, as does reading the other comments. Thank you to all of you.