"It was only after my son left that I let myself face the truth head on: I had been hiding my lack of confidence beneath the mantle of motherhood." I've thought about this a lot, wondering to what extent I hid myself in mothering. To be fair, I was consumed with the task (four kids), but I didn't start writing or doing yoga or anything very ME oriented until they were grown. (And I still have one unfledged bird, grown but not yet flown - a complicating factor.) There are so many ways to mother (still not sure about that word as a verb), so many versions of family. How to find ourselves in it, is the question.
All of Marilyn Johnson's books look fascinating, thanks for the rec! And I just love those Monday letters - your mom seems like a real winner.
You'll enjoy Marilyn's books. As for hiding behind motherhood - let's face it, it was a real job with a lot of real and present gratifications and real consequences if I didn't "mother" my son or you didn't mother your children. Still, you know what I'm talking about I think. I take comfort from all the material those years provided.
Oh have I. I gave up my identify as a mother when my son was kidnapped by his father and I didn't see him for five years. I moved away, re-married and pretended to be childless until my daughter was born. I gave up my identify as a straight woman when I came out as a lesbian. The first time was exactly as you described: losing a limb. The second time was totally librating and I felt like myself for the first time in my life at age 33.
I gave up the identity of 'mother' at 45 when I realised my long struggle to conceive was not going to result in a miracle-baby happy ending. It was a deep, dark hole at the time as it was hard to see a future for myself that didn't include another generation coming through, but like many dark nights of the soul, it led me to finding the path that life intended for me. Thanks for sharing your story. I love hearing real life accounts of all the different shades of womanhood - especially those that step a little outside of the mainstream narrative.
It seems to me that it takes a lot of openness to find one's way through the dark nights to the path you were meant to be on. And courage. Thanks for sharing your story, too.
Can you imagine how lovely this was to read?! I’m so touched by what you’ve written, Betsy. You’ve built a community here and I’m proud to be part of it!
I love reading your thoughts on books, and I love the interviews you do, but wow, I really loved reading your writing. Thanks for the vulnerability. It brought up a lot of feelings for me. My decision not to have a third child was not my own. My husband and I tried for many years, and eventually chose to foster while still trying. This is what I'm writing about in my memoir. But, your writing opened a window for me, to the realization of what happened after we recognized that a third birth child was probably not in the cards and our foster son returned home...I returned to myself and my writing, first, I think as a way to grieve, and then as a way to live. And I'm really grateful.
Love this post!
"It was only after my son left that I let myself face the truth head on: I had been hiding my lack of confidence beneath the mantle of motherhood." I've thought about this a lot, wondering to what extent I hid myself in mothering. To be fair, I was consumed with the task (four kids), but I didn't start writing or doing yoga or anything very ME oriented until they were grown. (And I still have one unfledged bird, grown but not yet flown - a complicating factor.) There are so many ways to mother (still not sure about that word as a verb), so many versions of family. How to find ourselves in it, is the question.
All of Marilyn Johnson's books look fascinating, thanks for the rec! And I just love those Monday letters - your mom seems like a real winner.
You'll enjoy Marilyn's books. As for hiding behind motherhood - let's face it, it was a real job with a lot of real and present gratifications and real consequences if I didn't "mother" my son or you didn't mother your children. Still, you know what I'm talking about I think. I take comfort from all the material those years provided.
Marvelous self-insight - and writing. This passage needs to be included in a book, please.
Thank you, PJ
Oh have I. I gave up my identify as a mother when my son was kidnapped by his father and I didn't see him for five years. I moved away, re-married and pretended to be childless until my daughter was born. I gave up my identify as a straight woman when I came out as a lesbian. The first time was exactly as you described: losing a limb. The second time was totally librating and I felt like myself for the first time in my life at age 33.
Here's to finding that self, at any age.
I gave up the identity of 'mother' at 45 when I realised my long struggle to conceive was not going to result in a miracle-baby happy ending. It was a deep, dark hole at the time as it was hard to see a future for myself that didn't include another generation coming through, but like many dark nights of the soul, it led me to finding the path that life intended for me. Thanks for sharing your story. I love hearing real life accounts of all the different shades of womanhood - especially those that step a little outside of the mainstream narrative.
It seems to me that it takes a lot of openness to find one's way through the dark nights to the path you were meant to be on. And courage. Thanks for sharing your story, too.
Can you imagine how lovely this was to read?! I’m so touched by what you’ve written, Betsy. You’ve built a community here and I’m proud to be part of it!
Happy Mother’s Day to you ❤️
Thank you so much, Janice. I wish you a peaceful contented day in return.
Betsy,
I love reading your thoughts on books, and I love the interviews you do, but wow, I really loved reading your writing. Thanks for the vulnerability. It brought up a lot of feelings for me. My decision not to have a third child was not my own. My husband and I tried for many years, and eventually chose to foster while still trying. This is what I'm writing about in my memoir. But, your writing opened a window for me, to the realization of what happened after we recognized that a third birth child was probably not in the cards and our foster son returned home...I returned to myself and my writing, first, I think as a way to grieve, and then as a way to live. And I'm really grateful.
Thank you very much, Mary. Writing is a great way to find a path through any stage of loss or love or life. I'm glad you found in it a way to live.
Thank you, Courtney. Here's to the "now" in "Now what?"