There is long held myth in society, that motherhood is all a woman should aspire to and that it is all a woman needs to be fulfilled.
Tonight I came home from drinks with my business associates and I hated it. I hated coming home to my children. I may be crucified for saying this, but I am SOOOO bored of their company.
This doesn’t mean I don’t love them. This doesn’t mean I am not grateful for them and everything that they bring to my life. I am simply bored to tears of their little faces.
I once wrote a post about hating motherhood. I no longer hate being a mother, but I can’t say that I love it. It is a task that I have chosen to do and I do it because I must. It has its good moments and it certainly has plenty of crap ones, too.
Motherhood doesn’t make me feel fulfilled, but I sure as hell can tell you that if for some reason I hadn’t been able to have children, I would feel betrayed by my body and definitely unfulfilled. Take that for a dichotomy and hypocrisy.
Tonight I wanted to go out and party. Not that anyone was suggesting that, but I just did not want to be a mum.
I wanted to be carefree and irresponsible, not something I’ve done a lot of in my life. Perhaps it’s too late to be having a teenage rebellion at 50?
My children don’t make my life complete. They help keep me alive and they give me a reason to get up every morning. But the reason they’re here is also the reason that I need them to do these things.
People (women) often tell me that “if I hadn’t met my ex I wouldn’t have my beautiful children”. Well, I say “bullshit” to that! I also wouldn’t have gone through enormous pain and betrayal and 18 years of abuse. The children don’t somehow magically make up for that. They are not a panacea for the pain that I experienced. Nothing will ever erase that. If I could turn back time and make different choices at the cost of my children, I would.
Perhaps I am more selfish than most women. Motherhood does not make everything OK. It does not make all the pain worthwhile. I would swap it for a pain-free existence any day.
I prefer to go out to drinks than to hang out with my kids. I prefer to work than to do motherly things like cook dinner and pay attention to endless conversations about Fornite.
I miss coming home to adult company. I miss sharing my day with someone who gives a shit, or at least pretends to. I’ve finally realised that nobody on Facebook actually cares, or maybe just nobody really likes me.
I love my kids, but mothering them does not meet all my needs. I need so much more.
Also published on Medium.