Of the pieces I’ve written recently, This is 38 is one of my favorites. Some of the Huffington Post comments stung, though honestly they mostly rolled off my back. But there’s one that I can’t stop thinking about.
The commenter noted that my post was all about my kids, and criticized me for having such a narrow life.
I was totally taken aback by that. I have always been very aware of and invested it (overly so?) the other aspects of my identity beyond motherhood. I work full-time. I write. I aspire and always have to raise children who know that while they are the most important thing in my life, they are not the only thing here. And the truth is that I never really thought much about motherhood when I was growing up. I’ve written before about how I never thought of myself as maternal. I never babysat, I never daydreamed about my future children (or my future wedding, incidentally), I neither breathlessly anticipated motherhood nor expected it to be the missing piece that made my life whole.
And then. Then I had Grace, passed through a season of darkness and bewilderment, and had Whit. Once I finally caught my breath I looked around and I had two children. As I wrote last year, I have been a mother over 10 years now and it is undeniably true that this is the central role of my life. (I feel the need to acknowledge that I am both aware of and grateful for my good fortune in conceiving and bearing healthy children). I have been changed in countless, indelible ways by becoming a mother. One essential way is not a change so much as a return, to the page, to writing, to something I had forgotten I needed. My subject chose me, and while that subject is not specifically “motherhood” it certainly arrived in the hands of my blue- and brown-eyed children, announced itself slowly but insistently as their lives unfurled with dizzying speed in front of me.
Over the last 10.5 years I have sunk into motherhood slowly but irrevocably and I feel a sense of relief whose gradual arrival doesn’t diminish its depth. It seems this is something I always wanted and I love my children more than anything else in the world.
But still. Motherhood is not some kind of missing puzzle piece, it does not render cohesive my diffuse sense of self and purpose, and it does not solve in one grand, sweeping answer all the questions that have always plagued me. No. And I always thought of myself as someone who has many other facets, kaleidoscope that I am: writer, wife, daughter, sister, friend, runner, nail-biter, redhead, reader, lover of the sky, hater of shellfish, insomniac, worrier. I could go on. In fact I struggle mightily to write bios because of this, I think: it’s hard to describe myself, to find the right adjectives. Everything seems both too definitive and not complete enough.
The comment on the Huffington Post has burrowed into my brain. Is it true that I’ve let the other parts of myself atrophy and wither, so that all that’s left is my identity as a mother. Honestly, I don’t think so, but I need to consider that that’s how it may be coming across. Surely that subject that chose me is focused on my children, though not exclusively. I know both Grace and Whit are aware of the other aspects of my life, and they are accustomed to having to wait for my attention when I’m engaged in something to do with work, writing, or with their father or a friend. This week they both go to sleepaway camp. For the first time in 10.5 years I will be without either child for 10 days. I know I’ll miss them desperately, there’s no question of that. I guess whether or not I feel lost, and as though my identity has been lopped off, will tell me all I need to know about this particular issue. Stay tuned …
Do you fret about your identity being too focused in one area of your life, whether that’s parenthood or career or something else?
I am the opposite of you in that I always daydreamed about becoming a mother. I never thought of it as the missing piece, but I certainly always considered it an integral part of who I was meant to be. Motherhood was SO much different than I expected. I found myself with three very young children, suffocating, and desperately needing to develop those other parts of my identity, which thankfully is in the process of unfolding.
In my opinion, your life, as expressed through your writing, does not come across as narrow at all!!
Do not put too much stock — wait — do not put ANY stock in the haters who need to knock you down to feel better about themselves. Because that is what is going on here. You are thinking about this correctly when you talk about your subject choosing you — your kids are what you are compelled to write about. Just becasue you dont open up your other windows to the entire world doesnt mean there arent really meaningful things going on there. Its always a good exercise to reflect on the balance in your life — but measure it on your onw terms – never any one elses. And good luck with the next two weeks — you will feel like you are missing your right arm for a while but then it will settle in. And a good practice of letting go for us Moms! xxoo
Thank you. I so relate to this.
Lindsey, the first thing I want to say is that I think we all struggle with this question: the more we pour into one part of our lives (the worker part, the mother part, the writer part), the more we wonder what we are losing in the other realms. It’s wise to bring this struggle to the surface, to ask questions about it. But I don’t think that any one phase of our lives defines us.
The second thing I want to say is: Check out Cheryl Strayed’s Disapproval Matrix, quoted here at Ann Friedman’s blog: http://annfriedman.com/post/49152967734/in-my-ongoing-quest-for-the-perfect-framework-for
It sounds to me as though the HuffPo comment that rattled you belongs in the “Haters” portion of the matrix, and you’re treating it as though it belongs in the “Critics” part. The people who appreciate your writing love the way that your children are woven into it. It sounds as though she (he) does not, and that’s fine. But one piece of writing does not make YOU. (Also, you tend not to write about your marriage, your work, or your friendships nearly as much as you write about your kids… that doesn’t make them not exist.)
You are just about perfect just as you are.
Of the many things that have gone right since the women’s movement, one area that (to me) has gone very wrong is women’s judgment of one another’s choices. We all have to do what works best for us, and I happen to believe that finding the role of mother, something we are biologically “made for”, completely fulfilling is just as valid as any other path, and one of the best gifts we can give this planet. Healthy, loved, well-adjusted children raised in a warm and caring environment will make the world a better place. I don’t know why anyone would begrudge someone for making that choice.
I’ll never forget when my aunt told my cousin (a partner at a law firm) that she would be wasting her education to take time off to stay home with her children. My cousin listened to her mother, and has regretted it ever since. The law firm would have always been there. The children are now entering their tweens, and it feels like she just had the conversation. My heart hurts for her.
Something that struck me when I read this, however, is that I think of you as a writer and a mother. None of us are just one thing, and I know from my own experience that staying home with my children allowed me to finally be a writer, which has been my lifelong dream.
I’m sorry to ramble, but I think you are a marvelous writer, mother, woman, person, etc, and I love reading your reflections on those areas.
Thank you so much for saying that … that my life doesn’t seem narrow! 🙂 I think the experience of motherhood being different than we expected is universal, no matter what direction we come at that shock from, you know? The central line of the memoir I have now abandoned was, in fact, “my life was exactly as I planned it and nothing like I expected.”
Thank you! I really appreciate this reminder, and it is true that I’m very quick to assume that others are (a) well-intentioned and (b) right. xoxox
I am grateful to have kindred spirits like you nearby!!! xoxo
I can’t wait to read Cheryl Strayed’s matrix, which sounds totally fabulous and wonderful and useful. Thank you for this thoughtful comment, as ever, and for being someone I can count on to remind me of what does matter in my life, not just in my writing (seeing as you know big swaths of the former, often unaddressed in the latter, you’re well positioned to do that). xox
Thank you so much for this. My heart hurts reading about the exchange, too, and I know that regret is one of the most toxic emotions of all, so I’m sorry for your cousin. I do actually work full-time, which is a little-known fact to people who know me mostly here. I don’t write about what I do a lot in an effort to keep some boundaries (much like I don’t write about my marriage, as a rule). But I am grateful that my job allows me the flexibility to be around a lot, and to be the one providing day-to-day support, both logistical/mundane as well as emotional/big-picture to my children. I will never, ever regret that. xox
I’m always surprised at the negativity of the comments on Huffington Post and also at how completely differently people can interpret the same written piece. I read your blog because I have two children the same age as yours and wonder about many of the same things. I’m older than you in age but not at where I am in terms of being a mother who works, etc. Without a doubt, though, being a mother may not be the only thing I do, but to me it’s the most important. It’s the thing I most want to get “right”, and how tricky that can be !
Lindsey, that is awesome. Great, great post.
I love this. I also never really envisioned myself as a mother; in fact, for a long time I insisted I would never have children…. and here I am with two lovely littles! When I started blogging, I didn’t want to be a “mommy blogger,” but I found that the posts I loved writing, that just flowed naturally, were about motherhood and my children. And those were the ones people wanted to read and share and engage with. It’s not that motherhood becomes our whole identity, but certainly I do more mothering than writing, reading, yoga-ing, or anything else in a given day!
I my first year of teaching, as I was struggling with discipline issues in my classes, an older colleague told me something to the effect of, “Eventually, it all just merges. The classroom management, the lesson planning, discipline… it all becomes one and you don’t think of teaching as all these isolated components.”
I think “mothering” can be the same. It’s like our reading and working and living and mothering all blend into one… we can’t separate our motherhood from any other part of us.
And haters, ugh. Yes, we can tell ourselves that “words will never hurt me,” but words are powerful…. and when they attack our very identity, it hurts. I had a recent commenter attack me as a mother, and even from trolls, those things hurt. But it’s funny how once we get past the hurt, even the haters can make us think….
Lovely post, as always 🙂
Oh, Lindsey, don’t let that commenter get the best of you. This is a no-win situation. We are all mothers who are fated to be criticized for however we parent, however we strike out our own identity. I’ve had criticism from people who think I’m too invested, too focused around motherhood (some of my college friends) and others who don’t think that I think enough about my home, how I feel my children. There is no way to please everyone else, especially faceless, nameless people online; you can only make peace with yourself.
This is 38 was one of my favorite written pieces -I cried & laughed at the same time-raw emotion from words-you have such a talent.
So you intrigued me when you mentioned there were critiziers….had to go read the posts-wow some true literal & negative people out there!
Ok, a Dad’s perspective. A blinding flash of the obvious. Biologically, as a species, without offspring, we’d become extinct.
We are made to reproduce.
What we make of this genetic reality is up to each person. To each his/her own. Live and let live.
For what it’s worth…
Some of us find out that parenting isn’t an entitlement (infertility is a bonafide disability) as we always thought.
And if we’re lucky enough, we become parents.
And realize in the excruciatingly difficult journey – and for the very first time in our life – there is nothing more important in the world than the privilege to raise a child(ten).
Lindsey, everything you do does one of two things for Grace and Whit – it’s sets an example or provides a warning.
Be well and remain amazed. 🙂
I question whether that commenter really understood the depth of your writing. To me, your children are really just the lens through which you are viewing various aspects of life and living. This is where you are, right now. So much of what you write about could just as easily be told through pieces about gardening or running or cooking. That is, the themes you ponder (the passage of time, changes, seasons, etc.) surface in so many ways. You just happened (as do I) to find joy, comfort or ease in thinking and writing about them from this perspective most or all of the time. I think when parents, women in particular, choose to write about life through the lens of children they are not given the same deference as gardeners, cooks, athletes or spiritual individuals who might touch upon the same themes from their vantage points. They are almost never accused of being narrow-minded, but parents are. I often wonder why there is such stigma attached when it is children that become the object most in focus. Perhaps it is more commentary on that commenter’s own insecurities (as a parent? as a child?) than anything else. Keep writing where your heart leads. THAT is the voice that keeps me, and so many others, coming back. 🙂
I totally agree with what Kristen said above: motherhood is the lens through which you’re exploring all sorts of big, universal ideas and truths. I know I was drawn to your blog long before I had a child — or even an interest in having a child.
As so often happens here, I feel you’re writing just for me. I was never maternal either. Hated babysitting. Was ambivalent about having children–until I realized that the choice might not be mine to make. 4 years of infertility treatments later, I had my Grace and Will, and everything shifted, in all the ways you describe here. For a time, yes–they were the primary, defining aspect of my life. And, as for you, they were the catalyst of my return to writing. My only book (so far, I hope) was written because I needed to capture in words the grandest experience of my life.
You know what? I think it’s all perfectly OK. It’s a huge, amazing experience, and it’s right for it to take center stage. Even to define us, at least for a time. My babies are now 15, and a different kind of shift is beginning. It’s bittersweet. I am glad, though, that I let them be the main thing for the years I did. That I didn’t fight it, but sank into it as deeply as I could.
Cannot wait to read your “This is 48.” 🙂
PS: I had to go read the comments to see what you’re writing about here. Clearly many people don’t read well. Please continue writing for those of us who do.
Maybe motherhood broadens our lenses. If it weren’t for my 16 year old daughter, I wouldn’t have near as much appreciation for art, her passion. My 14 year old son opened my eyes to architecture and football. And my 10 year old’s love for dogs has increased my own. I learned more about food and how it is produced in order to feed my family well. My need to travel has grown because I so want to show them the world and its wonders.
These people we are raising widen our view, and you do an awesome job of illustrating that with your words. Keep it up.
I love the comment above which says she feels as though you are writing “just for her.” I feel the same and it is quite amazing that you can touch so many readers in this manner.
I have never ever thought of your writing scope as “narrow,” or focused all on your children. In fact, I have never felt as though a writer was able to reach into the depths of me and describe so many of my feelings so accurately. A depth which has many layers and makes “narrow” feel a laughable adjective (for me and for you!).
However, part of me wonders why this kind of comment can be perceived so negatively. So what if your writing were overly focused upon your children? You are a mother. You have two young children. When in this stage of our lives, in the trenches, with little people who rely on us, love us, bewilder us, exhaust us, inspire us and amaze us, is it shameful or disappointing to narrow our focus? If this was the case, why should it take away anything from our writing – or ourselves as women, as friends, as sisters, as partners – as mothers?
After 8 years of grad school, an internship and a wonderful start to a career, I’ve put it on hold, to narrow my focus and spend most of my time in the trenches with my little girls. I think it is only natural that this does define me for this part of my life.
Keep at it, you touch so many people in ways you cannot fully know.
I love the idea of all of our various selves, identities, responsibilities blending into one. That makes so much sense to me. I read a while ago about people who prefer work and home to be firmly categorized and separated, and people who like them more fluid. I was surprised to realize, since in general I prefer structure, that I like the kind of blending and back-and-forth that the second type has.
You’re so right about that. I feel at peace, so I guess I need to hang onto that. xox
Oh, there were criticizers! 🙂 Appreciate your kind words about the piece. Thank you. xo
Thank you so much for this. What I keep hearing in my head, over and over, is: remain amazed. I will. xoxo
I really appreciate this comment and love this way of thinking about it and looking at it. A lens through which I address and think about the various themes that interest (obsess?) me. Thank you so much for saying this.
Thank you!! xoxoxo
“The grandest experience of my life.” Yes, yes, and YES. Absolutely. xox
Thank you. For me, it’s been dogs and robots, among so many other things! I love that I can learn – so much! – from them. xo
Thank you so much. And you’re right, absolutely: why do I read that and feel criticized? Maybe it is an overly strong reaction by me, when instead I should realize that this is entirely appropriate for right now. xo
When I first became a mom, I was nearly kicking and screaming the whole time in an effort to ensure that I DID not become “just a mother.” It was almost unhealthy, really, like an obsession. I was determined to find a way to be Mom AND Me. I was terrified (yes, that’s a good word) of losing my identity, my interests, everything, and becoming completely absorbed in my kids. Now, after 8 years of being a mom, I look back and it makes me laugh a little. I agree: my kids are central, but they are not the only part of me, or of my life. And I certainly would not have thought of you as being too absorbed in your kids, based on what I read on your blog. 🙂
Wow…that comment just seems way off base. As a reader my perception is that you have a well-rounded life. It seems that mothers are frequently criticized for giving up their identity. I would find it far more concerning if a parent’s identity did grow/change when they became a parent. Also, I can’t imagine it is much fun to be parented by someone who does not make parenting a pretty big focus. As is so often the case, I think this comment says more about the commenter than about the blogger.
Hi, Lindsey –
I’ve a huge fan of your blog and find your writing and view of the wonders of an ephemeral life to be an inspiration for this aspiring writer just coming out of the bleary-eyed season of early motherhood. I’ve also just realized after reading “This Is 38,” that I am exactly two years behind you, that my oldest two kids are two years behind yours and that I’ve been married two years after you did. You are indeed courageous to put your heart out (doesn’t one give a piece of their truest heart when writing and then, sharing?) to a biting world and still respond with such graciousness, especially to those who are unkind in their response to your writing. You are a role model!
Lindsey, do you follow Brene’ Brown’s work at all? She has some really good stuff to say about critics, but what I mostly wanted to share was the quote that inspired her latest book, Daring Greatly. It’s something Theodore Roosevelt said, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” Anyone who reads your blog, takes the time to know you, knows that you are daring greatly, with your WHOLE life.
I know what you mean, that sort of frantic determination NOT to become “just” a mom. It seems like a different life, for me, that I was so concerned about that!
Thank you so much – I think you’re right. Yes. It says more about them than me. I need to remember that!!
Oh, gosh, thank you! I’m not sure about that but I am very touched to hear you say that. I’m grateful that you relate to what I share and also glad to know you are right behind me on the path of this great adventure … xox
Oh, thank you. I love Brene and have been reading her for many years, and am so glad that you mentioned her. I think her work is hugely powerful and valuable. And that quote is wonderful. Thank you. xo
I think that commenter missed the point of your writing. And why would anyone even need to say that? H8ers gonna h8 I guess.
Your life is not narrow at all and I love how you write about your balance of work and kids and friendship and marriage and self.
And another thing – what is wrong with a narrow life anyway? What is mastery if not a wholehearted focus on one thing?
So, I had to go back and read the article again because I when I read about the comment I thought I don’t remember her going on about her children. I found your website through that article and I could have written (not nearly as eloquently!) many of the posts myself. I am 37, but knocking on the door of 38!
I think when we have young children our lives do revolve around them to a degree because they require so much of our attention. I don’t think that means your life is narrow, I think it means you are being a mother. My daughter is almost 15 and we are deep in the teen years. I LOVE these years just as much if not more than when she was young. But as another commenter mentioned….they are bittersweet. I have 4 more short years of seeing her on a daily basis and I plan to make the absolute most of them. So, if that means my life is narrow then bring on the narrow! 😉
Love your blog!
Such a thouthtful post, Lindsey. Like you, I never thought about kids. I had no younger siblings or younger cousins. Rarely babysat. I related to all that you said there. I also relate to feeling that I have a lot going on in addition to motherhood . . . and yet in writing about parenting it can feel a little meta–at least for me in my list. I write about other things too, but the parenting articles seem to stick the most. Then, sometimes I’ll read someone else’s headline about moving kids to a big kid bed or something like that and I”ll think “oh come on, how much can we all keep saying about the same topics?” But you know what, for that one parent/writer, it’s the first move to a new bed. So it’s topic worthy. Perhaps the person who commented on the post has older children so can’t relate to what you’re writing about now. But that doesn’t mean you are too focused on your kids. It’s like apples and almonds . . . one has little to do with the other!
Hope that all made sense!
There is a time in our lives for all things. Currently we are graced with the chance to view life through the eyes of our children. This moment will pass all too quickly and we will move to another moment. It will however pale when compared to the brief time when we can learn about a child’s world which many seem to have either forgotten or perhaps never stood still long enough to appreciate. I am lucky to have such a narrow life.
Just keep doing what you’re doing, Lindsey. Narrow? I should say not. Anyone who writes “My subject chose me, and while that subject is not specifically “motherhood” it certainly arrived in the hands of my blue- and brown-eyed children,” or “kaleidoscope that I am” or “diffuse sense of self and purpose,” that kind of self awareness, is a writer whom some may emulate, most will only envy if they know. For this person to judge your writing on one article, or at all, says more about the correspondent than about anything you may write or represent? Does this individual also contribute to the Huffington Post or something similar? I thought not.
Thank you so much! It means so much to hear this from you. And you’re absolutely right: how can we master anything without focusing on it?
Thank you so much! I really appreciate your saying that you like what I write. Yes: bittersweet. Intensely so. Overwhelmingly so! xox
Totally makes sense. 100%. I also really relate to what you say about the back-and-forth between feeling like my GOD how can there be anything new to say about X or Y and feeling like this is hugely sacred for each person, so it’s relevant, meaningful, universal.
Thank you for reminding me of the immense privilege that this narrowness actually is. xo
I’m smiling. Thank you so much. xox
I’m sorry but I believe that anyone who criticizes you just doesn’t have a clue. You are an incredible writer with a beautiful way with words and a wisdom beyond compare. I could go on and on but I’m in a hurry…Suffice it to say that I’m glad you are not wasting time worrying about those negative comments…some people just don’t go deep within themselves, don’t face their fears, their shortcomings, their joys, their life in a truly honest way. And if that’s the case, they can never fully understand or appreciate an honest writer. I am still your number one fan and so appreciate all your words and perspective and writing ALWAYS!!