Another plea for women (& Moms)

I have a small plea to all women, and especially moms, out there. This is on behalf of women like me who do not yet have kids, for whatever reason. Please don’t judge us now, or how we may be in the future, according to our “childlessness” or our dreams in how we raise our future children.

Sounds like common sense, right? Who would do that? Maybe I’m imagining a portion of it, but the feelings are still real. My identity as a woman is not defined by profession, marriage, or children, or anything else. Yours is not either. Aren’t you glad?

This has been on my mind for some time but it’s hard to get my thoughts down without sending naive or angry. Bear with me.

We are all different. We want different things - marriage vs. single, adoption vs. biological, children vs. no children, single parent vs. co-parent, career first vs. children first, and the list goes on. Each woman must do what is right for her.

It all sort of “came to a head” recently when someone asked me in a horrid tone of voice, accompanied by an equally offensive facial expression, “tell me, do you have kids?” The context (whether personal or professional) of it doesn’t matter, but the point of it does. It was a blatant attempt to discredit me in that moment. This was not a friendly “get to know you” question.

I’ve been challenged as a professional in this way, and this seems the most unfair. Sometimes it is hard working as a therapist without being a parent. There’s an element that gives you an advantage, I think, when you do have kids so that you can connect to others in a different, more personal, way. Being a parent/therapist does not, however, ensure aptitude. I know I have had experience living with and caring for my sister’s kids so I have only a glimpse into how hard parenting is and how busy parents are in those few hours after school and before bed. Because of that, I always try and provide home programming that works into current routines and does not add a burden. I strive to be sympathetic and truly listen to their stories and difficulty, and sometime excuses. I don’t like arbitrary things for the “sake of doing them” so that reflects in my approach in my profession. I don’t need to have children of my own to know that sometimes you have to pick cooking a good meal over sitting down and working on a certain sound or other skill that a therapist has given for homework. Sometimes you are entrusted with children that do require extra attention and upheaval of schedules, and I know that too. You may have children but I have worked with hundreds. It doesn’t mean I know more, but it does mean I have experience with a variety of children, diagnoses, settings and dynamics. You can respect that for what it is and why you are with me - a professional relationship. You do not “get to” dive into my personal business to discredit me. Can a doctor not prescribe you medication because he or she doesn’t have kids? Do you not trust your dentist because maybe they don’t have kids? No. Same goes for me. Same goes for teachers. Treat us with respect and as an individual trained in our profession. I get it - there are therapists or teachers who may not have experience with seeing first hand what a day look like post-school and pre-bedtime. Instead of discrediting them as an individual or professional, just try enlightening them. Like we all do, we understand more things with experience. We are all young and idealistic, but we all learn and flex and change. We can teach each other from our roles without tearing each other down.

I wonder what this person would have said if I had responded in any of these ways which were all true feelings that came rushing over me in response to, “tell me, do you have children?”

• No I don’t, and I cry many nights over this fact. My heart races as my mind is flooded with budgets, current financial balances, cost expectations with having children, my age, my desires, my husband’s wishes, etc. My mind never stops rolling these through like credits that never stop after the movie ends.
• No, but I can already imagine my daughter twirling around in her pink tu-tu. Did you know we already have her name picked out?
• No, but I plan to foster-to-adopt and I am going to lovingly choosing a difficult road, one that will include attending to special needs in some capacity. We plan to specifically find a black son. Did you know that less than 10% of adoptive parents will even choose that race and gender?
• No I don’t yet and even seeing women who are pregnant or gushing over their newborns feels like a knife through my soul. I’m so happy for them but I’m also reminded of what I do not yet have. When will this be me?
• No, I don’t by choice right now but what I find out that I will struggle from infertility?

I have also heard, “Oh, wait until you have kids. You won’t do any of those things.” I’ll give you this much - people change after they have children and they may be more or less strict than they imagined. BUT, you don’t know me. You don’t know what makes me tick, and how I will be when I have children. You could be right in some aspects, but you probably won’t be in most so please don’t even say it. Do not speak that over me, and do not demean my intentions. That also goes for saying things like this to single women about when they get married. I was told all kinds of things, and NONE of them were true. I am married. Yes it’s hard. It is as hard for me as being single was, just different. My husband is an active participant and we share gender roles. This is what WE chose and I chose. It works for us, and all of those snide comments I heard as a single woman before marriage do not apply. Many came as well meaning, but many perhaps reflected something that they needed to face within themselves. We could, however, be more truthful in sharing the difficulties of both stages. Can we be honest and let others know how hard marriage is before they get married? Not in a “don’t do it way” but an honest way? Can we understand that being single is fun sometimes and not fun at other times? Just because single women aren’t carrying a burden for 2 doesn’t mean that it’s not just as hard sometimes. Difficulties shift for all of us, despite our roles. Let’s be gentle in our approaches.

The intent for this is not to be an angry post but to reveal how some of us feel when we are faced with what sometimes feels like leverage. I say this because I’ve seen so many friends and coworkers get asked that question while I stand to the side knowing of their infertility, miscarriages, desires to be a parent. I watch them feel judged or “sized up” for not having kids. I have seen their and my own professional abilities be questioned due to personal choices or differences. We have to stop. We owe this to each other. Maybe we can use more “I” statements instead of “you won’t,” “you need,” “just you wait.” I know this can be done because most of my friends are extraordinary moms and they navigate this beautifully.

We are women first We are not defined by our roles. Let’s do what is right for us, but treat each other with respect.

 

Who run the world? Girls! (It wouldn't be complete without a shout out to Beyoncé)

We are all in this together,

Danielle

PS: I cannot for the life of me fix the changing fonts throughout. Whatever.