Not long ago in one of those family chats, an aunt referred to me as the happiest mum in the world. The happiest in the world? - I thought- Wonder how the others are feeling then! I didn't say anything at the time, but I felt that accepting the "compliment" in silence had been akin to lying.
No! I am not the happiest. I wouldn't even say that I’ve been "moderately happy," especially in the last two years. And saying this, saying it publicly, makes my stomach churn and sends shivers down my spine. Are you really going to say that? Reproaches my inner critic. Are you really going to say something so drastic? And somehow I feel this is the closest I'll be in this life to being burnt at the stake. A woman that isn’t happy to be a mum? Sacrilege!…
It could also be a sort of non-confession. Some may say -well, who is happy anyway?- and I don't know if it will sound arrogant, but... I was happy! My adult life had been, at least until then, a happy life. Not flat. Not without conflict. Not without sadness, but happy.
And then I decided to bring a being into the world, and I stopped being happy. Now I'm always tired. Now I'm always worried. Now I go to the psychologist because at some point, I started feeling like I couldn't take it anymore. In my lowest moments, I just wanted everything to stop... to stop feeling myself... to disappear or to float silently in outer space where nothing could reach me.
I lost motivation. Life started feeling gray, dull, squared... claustrophobic.
I wondered how this could be when a child is the least gray, the least dull, the least squared. I wondered how it could be when my child is the most amazing, most beautiful, and happiest of my creations ... And I've come to some conclusions.
I understand, because I feel it in my gut, that the problem (at least my problem) is not mothering; it’s not BEING A MOTHER that makes me unhappy. But let's break it down:
I feel that being a mum is not a conceptual thing. Although it involves a constant and utterly exhausting use of discernment, being a mum is something that happens intimately, in the most secret and profound layers of the soul. Being a mum is a physiological truth. It's a cellular, hormonal, psychic, and spiritual event. Just like menstruating. No matter how much we resist or close our eyes to this reality, mothering is something forged in the entrails of our beings, and takes place there, regardless of whether the child is 3, 10, or 25 years old and already navigating the world independently. We are mothers to such an extent that we are thinking about the well-being of our children even when we choose not to carry a pregnancy to term. Stone me if you want! It's like that. Many believe that abortion is a matter of selfishness when it is really a matter of love.
For those who menstruate, gestate, experience losses, have abortions, give birth, or breastfeed, it is evident that something as overwhelming as the reality of motherhood cannot be questioned. Precisely because of its intuitive, primal, intrinsic nature to our being, our bodies, our hormones, our blood, our bones. That's why it's so difficult for us to understand why we're not 100% happy. That's why it's hard for us to answer when, after becoming mothers, we are asked if we regret having children. An absurd question and, if not malicious, at least deceitful ... it's like asking someone if they regret breathing...
- Are you happy?
- Mm, I don't know.
- Do you regret it then?
- Regret what?
- Breathing
- Regret breathing?
- Yes, right now you're breathing. Why did you choose to breathe if you weren't going to be happy? You shouldn’t have gotten up this morning then!
It sounds absurd, doesn't it? But that's how physical, how real, and how unavoidable the reality of motherhood is; just like breathing.
And yet, perhaps for that very reason is that I can't smile placidly as society would expect me to do and simply say 'Yes, I'm fine... happy!' Because having a child has been the most powerful, transformative experience of my life, but at the same time, I've never felt so miserable.
So, what's wrong with you then?
Firstly, that suddenly, without warning or consent, in a world of over 8 billion inhabitants, I feel inexorably ALONE. I had never felt so alone; alone as during the third or fourth nighttime feed while my partner snored and slept soundly. Alone, as sitting at a mother and baby group where everyone smiles while I feel like I'm breaking inside. Alone, as when the novelty of giving birth fades and people stop calling and visiting, leaving you 24/7 with a baby who still doesn't speak and feeling like you'll soon forget how to speak yourself. Alone, as after more than two years of forced domestic life because you couldn't afford daycare, and you try to find a job but no one answers your emails. Alone as when you need to schedule a medical appointment but have no family or anyone you trust nearby to leave your baby with, so you end up missing the appointment.
As you read this (and this happens when I talk to people too), you may think I'm a single mother... and I'm not. Why does this happen? Well! Because -surprise- there is absolutely no semblance of parity in child care, and parenthood highlights and forefronts anything lacking or needing attention in a relationship. Lack of time together, lack of personal space, communication shortcomings, the burden of mental workload, economic pressures, and inevitable differences such as the time invested in breastfeeding, which is non-transferable and roughly equivalent -in case you didn’t know- to the hours spent in a full-time job. Exactly! And yet, despite the insistence from organizations like the WHO on the importance of breastfeeding, many women worldwide breastfeed and work, or breastfeed at the expense of their income - or in other words- at the expense of their financial independence, which, when lacking, also compromises their physical and mental well-being.
So, even with a partner (which is a "luxury" that millions of women around the world don’t count on), I, who chose to take all my maternity leave despite the devastating economic, professional, and psychological impact, have spent the most part of three years feeling alone. Alone all day at home, alone at night when I put my son to bed, alone in the shower, alone in my sadness, alone in my collapse as an individual, alone in my economic dependence, alone in my professional crisis; alone in planning all the basic things, alone with the cleaning, alone with the uniforms, alone with the snacks... and definitely alone with these thoughts. My partner can just about financially support both of us; he can sit and listen; he can hug me; but he can’t really grasp what I'm talking about, and that sort of loneliness, because it's so unexpected and insurmountable, is perhaps the hardest to accept.
In addition to feeling alone, I feel overwhelmed. I feel powerless and trapped.
I spent the last 20 years of my adult life designing a way of living that resonated with my being, with the rhythms of the earth, with the body, with pleasure. I wanted to wake up late, I wanted to decide when to work more or when to work less. I wanted to do something I enjoyed. I wanted to travel. I wanted to be happy with little. And I did it! And as soon as I finished setting that up, I had a child, completely oblivious to the fact that by doing this, I would radically alter that meticulously curated world. Didn’t think of how it’d feel to “go back” to school, which for me was like a prison for the soul. I’d have to have schedules, and eventually do homework... I’d have to go back to the "have-to’s". I’d also have to return to work sooner or later but this time as a mum. After the timeless days that followed childbirth, after all those hours in bed, without clothes, caressing my son's back as he slept, singing to him, lulling him, existing only to BE with him, now I'm worried about whether we'll make it to nursery on time, whether he's eating fast enough; stressing because he's being difficult to dress, worrying that now I’ll have to put him in the car crying. No more going at his pace or mine. No more time to enjoy. Now everything is forced, heavy, and overwhelming. The other day, I read a post that said, "You can have a nice morning or you can arrive early to school. You can't have both."
People will laugh and roll their eyes while thinking -well, that's life, isn’t it? But why? Why does life have to be this way? Why can't we be free? Why can't we raise our children in joy? Why is everything in the world so "child-phobic"? Why is there no time to be happy?
And so, thinking about all this by myself is how I slowly go crazy. Feeling... cleaning... pondering... picking up... deciding... arguing... calculating...
Some of the issues I face come from my relationship and the division of the mental load. Others are cultural. Others stem from my migrant status. Others are from school... Others are related to myself, etc. But the truth is that all these problems, all these things contributing to my unhappiness, are just facets of a much larger structural problem that no one is talking about. The real problem is that the world is not made for caring. Everything I want to do, everything my inner mother screams for, is impossible. More resources, more freedom, more time, more community, more simplicity.
If we are going mad trying to parent properly is because our children remind us of our birth rights: love, physical contact, closeness, nature, singing, dancing, laughter, play, curiosity, passion. Our children demand all these things from us but we can't give them because we don't have them either! And this breaks our heart! It breaks our heart to leave them at nursery, to wake them up early, to force them into uniforms; it breaks our heart not being able to play with them because we're exhausted; getting angry at them because they don't adapt to our absurd schedules, agenda, or jobs; it breaks our heart not being able to bring them up close to a tribe or within an extended family, forcing them to do homework, making them wait so long for holidays only to send them to another childcare setting because we have to go to work.
What is this nonsense? And why hasn't anyone complained about this before? Perhaps one of the things that has surprised me the most about becoming a mum is how extremely ANTI-motherhood everything is and the fact that there are no mass demonstrations about it.
For example:
Adults have approximately (depending on the country, job status, etc.) 5 weeks of holiday per year. Children have between 13 and 15! that alone should be a scandal. What are parents supposed to do then? Pay. Pay for someone else to take care of them. This doesn’t only create more tension within the couple and their finances but openly implies that caring for our children is just not a priority. In vulnerable families with limited resources or without proper family and social support, this directly jeopardizes the well-being of children, who in many cases are left in unsafe circumstances due to their caregivers' inability to find or pay for quality care.
And I'm not talking about leaving them with grandma eating sweets and watching the telly! I mean children that spent the day locked up, even tied up, or being looked after by relatives/neighbors or mere acquaintances, who can directly threaten their well-being. After working for so many years with women and mums, I can safely tell you that the things I've heard would make you throw up and undoubtedly lead you to demand working conditions that consider school times.
Centuries ago, when human societies closed ranks around mothers and their children, economies were communal, private property did not exist, resources were gifts from the earth, and everything the social group did was for the support of the primal and sacred mother/child dyad. Paleolithic art, pre-patriarchal mythology, and even chronicles of pre-colonial America speak of this.
But all of this has faded under what I choose to call "the Power." It's not even worth calling it patriarchy anymore because when I look around, all I see is broken fathers. Men working for people who don’t know them or give a fuck about them. Men who are trying to be better fathers and partners but have no idea how or the energy to do so. Men with high suicide rates, men in poor health, lost, tired, and scared.
Men who, like women, are angry and sad, and wondering if everything they learned about life is a lie. Because as children they were told that if they kept their heads down and worked hard, they could live well, have a happy family, and then maybe, even the right to a piece of land in the world – but that's not true!
How can someone offer care when no one cared for them?
We also grew up under the pressure of one of the greatest advertising campaigns in history: the family. The family, as if it was the ultimate goal of adult life. But what exactly is the family? Since we had a child, my partner and I hardly talk. We're always tired. He comes home from work, and I leave. If one is at home on the weekend, the other isn't. And if we coincide on a non-working day, all we do is life admin... groceries, payments, school stuff. Then come the couple therapists and the influencers telling you that you have to make time for your emotional life, for your social life, for your sexual life... for heaven's sake! When? This unicorn that is the family cannot exist in a vacuum. The family is not an independent, self-sufficient cell. That's why you know.. “Families don't last like they used to” Because the family is the community and vice versa, and we have destroyed the community in favor of individual goals that down the line make us implode, that kill us from within. Here’s when the wellness world coaches come into the scene telling you to do more mindfulness, to take up yoga, to get a massage, to have a bubble bath, to have more me-time... But beware. For all this, you need to have money and time!
On a large scale, what this individualistic, power-greedy structure produces, is a world in which the weak lose, and that's why we are witnessing a new massacre in Palestine today while the powerful of the world turn a blind eye. People are terrified, depressed, overwhelmed watching the news, but it's not "the people" who are in charge. It's the same monster of power that devours life from the private to the public sphere, from domestic to state level.
So... what will we do?
The world urgently needs restructuring at every level but we'll have to start somewhere. I have many ideas... for example:
- Flexible working hours or schedules that fit within school hours. Work should start after schools start and end before schools finish. It's only logical, and I don't understand why it hasn't happened before.
- Alternatively, free extracurricular activities and childcare within the same school to avoid commuting, paid by the state or, why not, partially by the employer when it’s big enough. If some stockholders are becoming rich at the expense of your time with your family, it seems only fair.
- More holiday time to spend with our children.
- 4-day workweek.
- Universal maternity and paternity leave.
- Workplace childcare for breastfeeding mothers who wish to continue working.
- Training and reintegration programs for women who have chosen to stay at home with their children in the early years.
- Pension plan adjustment to cover the time women spend out of work
- Or.. Universal basic income.
There's a lot to do, but we could just start by seeing; Seeing that all that we’ve been doing doesn’t seem to be working. Talking about it; naming it. And having that clarity, seek and find solutions at the heart of our communities. We need to visualise the type of care we want to give our families and ourselves. We need to feel! Feel what we need and dream that it can be true. This is how all revolutions are sown... this is how any change eventually germinates.
PS: I’ve been writing this for many months and my feelings keep changing as I begin to understand myself better; as I discover what I need, what I truly want; and as I rebuild myself. Soon I’ll write about postnatal depression and what it’s meant to me, what it’s taught me and what it’s making of me.
Just wanted to tell you that wherever you can only see darkness today, through the smallest crack, the light will soon come in.
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