I was never one of those women who dreamed of becoming a mother. It just wasn’t that appealing to me. I did want to have kids, but I didn’t ever hold it up in any kind of way. If anything, my feminist sensibilities (and conditioning) placed motherhood on a lower rung as far as dreams and aspirations. I also never set out to write about motherhood.
Weeeeell, here we are. I’m deep into it with three kiddos, ages almost-7, 5, and almost-2. I’m a “stay-at-home mom.” And I love thinking and writing about motherhood.
Oh no! Have I become one of those cringe-y women who’s just, like, super into being a mom?
There’s a vibe in mainstream culture that needs to go, and it’s the vibe that motherhood is supremely dull and uncool.
A woman recommending a new-ish motherhood magazine said: “It’s about… [pause, furrowed brow] motherhood? But it’s, like, more complex than just motherhood.”
More complex than just motherhood. Mmm.
Just motherhood.
Just a mom.
Not your mother’s (whatever).
Mom cut.
Mom jeans.
Mommy wars.
Mommy blog.
Feelin’ it?
In our culture, the word “mom” as an adjective is always negative. If anything’s related to motherhood, it’s less than. At best, sweet, fluffy, shallow. At worst, uninteresting, unimportant.
Definitely not cool.
A writer friend of mine wrote a great article about this a few years ago.
Attaching the word “mom” to something to denote frumpy-ness and/or a complete lack of cool, or to imply an inability to discern real artistic value in a product, is ageist, sexist, and flat-out wrong. Moms come in all different forms, and the only thing one can know for sure about a mom is that she is a woman who at some point became responsible for other people’s lives.
The vibe is real, whether you’ve felt it or not.
A younger Instagram friend of mine recently had her first child. She shared a video interacting with her baby, and I sent her a DM telling her I loved hearing her “mom voice.” What I meant was that it was absolutely beautiful to see her embodying her new role, interacting with her new little one with such gentle presence.
She responded with embarrassed emojis.
One of the most common thoughts modern women have is about motherhood is not wanting to “lose themselves” in it. Why do women never talk about losing themselves in any other demanding life reality, like a career? To be clear, I don’t think we should probably “lose ourselves” in anything, but if there’s something we should be okay with losing ourselves in it seems like it should be the raising up of the next generation?
This vibe of motherhood = not cool seems to have caused an ambivalence for modern women: Do want to have kids; do not want to be too wrapped up in the whole thing. As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I was there too. I saw motherhood as something I wanted, yes, but I didn’t want to, like, identify with it.
I started a blog before I had kids where I wrote about mindfulness, personal growth, perfectionism, what I was reading, whatever ideas I was into or wrestling with. A few years into that little blog project, I became a mother. One day a few months postpartum I sat down to write a blog post about things that surprised me as a new mom. It poured out. It felt just as deep, true, and important as anything else I’d previously written. But check out this paragraph from the beginning of the post:
“This isn’t going to suddenly morph into a ‘mommy blog,’ I promise. But it’s undeniable the impact that becoming (and being) a parent has on your life, so I’ll definitely write about parenting-related things from time to time!”
Can you sense the hesitation I was feeling the first time I wrote about motherhood? Why wasn’t I totally comfortable just sharing my reflections on this super intense new life experience? Why this weird, defensive-y disclaimer paragraph?
This is why: I was trying to control the perception my readers had of me, both as a person and as a writer. It’s like I was saying, “Don’t worry everyone, I just became a mom but that’s not going to influence the strong, ambitious woman I am and the deep, interesting things I write about. I don’t plan to become one of those women who becomes a mom and then becomes...boring.”
The truth is that we get this message everywhere: become a mother and you’re on the periphery. You’re in Mom-land—and that land isn’t a cool place to be. If you keep working a job, that’s fine; you’re still valued and part of society. But dive full into motherhood? Even if just for a few years while your kids are young? Ew. See ya. Maybe you can start a mom blog where you can talk with other moms about momming.
A friend sent me a video recently that speaks to this and resonates with my experience. In the clip, an emotional woman says with a voice of deep conviction: “I really believe that mothers and children are like a forgotten species in our modern day society. You become a mom and then suddenly you’re, like, pushed out—‘go find your Mommy-and-Me group, go figure it out on your own, and we’ll see you when you can be productive again.’”
Oof.
To be clear, I’m not saying anything here about being a “working mom” or a “SAHM” (though there’s plenty to explore in that silly dichotomy). I’m not saying any mother should do or not do anything. I’m calling BS on an idea embodied deep in our culture. Whether it’s motherhood as a topic or motherhood as the life reality, the clear message is that there just isn’t much there. Substance. Power. Anything. Become a mother—or want to write about motherhood—and you’re on the sidelines, automatically less relevant and interesting than you were before.
How can such a common and vital human experience be regarded with such low respect? It’s a good question, one I’ll keep exploring in this publication.
Meanwhile, yes, I’m super into being a mom. Not because I think I’m doing it all right or I don’t want or need anything beyond the title of “mother.” Because by living it, by being deep in it for the past seven years, I see motherhood for what it is, not what our culture makes it out to be. I see its complexity. I see its depth. I see its unmatched power to heal and transform women, families, and society. It’s everything but shallow, uninteresting, and uncool.
Women need to know this.
Motherhood needs a rebrand.
P.S. Regarding the box you see below: this is the whole written post, but the audio version (where I read the post out loud) is only accessible to paid subscribers. Subscribe to One Tired Mother at $5/month to get not only post audios but also podcast rants that are too spicy or vulnerable for all the Internet to hear.