I don’t have daughters. I don’t have children at all for
that matter. I have a huge dog, a cat and am soon to have another little kitten
brought into our fur-filled household. All of this aside, I do have friends
with beautiful babies who are blossoming into incredible little people before
my eyes. I don’t doubt that perhaps one day I’ll desire a family of my own; I’m
in a committed long term relationship and it’s the ‘done thing’ after all; but
for now I’m happy as I am. We’re happy as we are. If that changes, then so be
it, but for now; my womb my business.
It is odd the interest in your reproductive organs that
grows as we age. I haven’t been ‘blessed’
with a child. I haven’t ‘realised’ it’s
what I want yet. I’ll ‘never know until I
do it’. It’s common to be left feeling patronised and like a borderline oddity
when everyone around you seems to understand what you want and need better than
you do.
Childless women are just that for a myriad of different
reasons. Some of us are not in secure relationships, some of us are unable to conceive,
some of our partners have issues with fertility, and some of us simply don’t want
to have a child. I know that is an alien concept to so, so many women. I know that from 99% of the conversations I have
with mothers. Thank-fully, my own close friends who have families are much more
accepting of what I choose to do with
my vagina, and that’s great. They understand
that children are not for everyone and that many of us can still (incredibly) lead
happy and fulfilled lives without disrupting our sleep patterns and tearing our
genitals to shreds.
That said I do feel a strange kinship with my friends who
have children. Although it’s not necessarily something I want for my own future,
the love I feel for their spawn often takes me by surprise. It helps me
understand the unconditional nature of a mothers love in a small way.
I feel the same pull from the young women who message me
about their illness. Some to talk about a diagnosis or some just to let me know
they appreciate having someone else speak up about IBD/mental health. I feel a
responsibility to the girls and young women who follow my blog to be respectful
of their choices. Their fears are universal and have been felt by all of us to
some degree. I don’t have a ‘fear’ of starting a family I should clarify; I just
don’t want to. That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve the same respect as a mother receives.
My choices shouldn’t be dismissed or belittled for not conforming to some sort
of perceived ideal, and this serves to remind me how important it is that we,
as adult women; aunts, friends, mothers;
listen and respect the choices of our ‘daughters’.
When we talk to one another we should try harder to listen,
truly listen, to what is said (and often what is unsaid) before judging. We all
do it, I’m not claiming to be as pure as the driven snow here, but I do think it’s
now more important than ever we help young women to grow accepting of themselves
and one another. Life is hard and growing up even harder, throw into the mix
the possibility of a chronic/mental illness and it can be difficult to see past
the next few hours within the day let alone make choices that will affect the
rest of our lives.
So my ‘motherly’ advice (from a certified non-mother) is to
simply be kind to your kind.
Today is National Kindness Day (apparently), so what better
day to start! xo
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