Does motherhood actually fulfil you, though?
It’s fine to say it doesn’t – it doesn’t mean you don’t love your babies.
“Work as if you don’t have children. Parent as if you don’t have a job.”
When talking about how much I love my work recently, I said to my husband: “And as it turns out, motherhood doesn’t fulfil me.”
We laughed, but we both knew.
I was serious.
As I typed that just now, I felt deep shame. I don’t want to talk about it – but I think it’s important for other parents who feel this way to hear it. I feel such fear, too, that my beautiful daughter will grow up and read this and misinterpret it as me not loving her to the ends of the earth, which of course I do.
So, for myself, for you guys and for my little perfect Lydia – here’s my explanation.
Motherhood, while incredible, doesn’t completely fill my cup.
Before I had Lydia, I spent 33 years being just me. Building a self, forging a personality and making my way in the world. And I liked who I was. I was a million miles from being perfect, but I was proud of the person I became BB – before baby. She was me, I was her.
And so, it stands to reason that on occasion, when my work life reminds me that she’s still in there somewhere, I lean in. My career gives me things that motherhood simply cannot: It allows me to be ambitious and forthright, argumentative and feisty. It’s an intense environment at times where I thrive on finding solutions to problems and working to impossibly tight deadlines. It lets me be infinitely creative. I can chase success in a different form. I can grow and learn as a woman, separate entirely from my growth as a mother.
Mothering gives me so much, but it doesn’t allow for most of those things.
What it does give me is immense pride, such profound joy that it brings me to tears, and the searing (but welcome) pain of knowing I love someone more than I love myself. It gives me purpose, an outlet for the bountiful love I feel for my family and a future in the world that I wouldn’t have otherwise. These things – purpose, unconditional love, a future – are all important to my fulfilment, yes. But they aren’t absolutely every piece of the puzzle.
And that is FINE.
And as I write this piece, I hope the shame and guilt will dissipate – my logical brain knows it’s absolutely fine to say those things, but the guilt I feel for thinking them is huge. The weight of societal expectation makes it feel like a confession of inadequacy.
Polling, polling, polling
As I am wont to do, I took a rage-notion and did some Instagram polling recently. The polling was fresh off the back of conversations with friends about motherhood. Some were despairing about the childcare crisis, some about their lack of alone time, some about postpartum sweats and giant underwear, and the fact that they can’t afford to place their child in crèche but equally, they can’t afford to be a stay-at-home parent. Over 2,400 respondents answered my questions, and 1,895 of those are mothers.
65% work full time
32% work part time
12% are stay-at-home parents
In this fairly substantive anonymous poll, I learned so much about how mothers really feel as a collective. The results made me feel less like a monster, and more like I’m doing the best I can. And you could’ve knocked me over with a feather I was so surprised by some of them.