I’ve read that the mental load a mom carries is quite heavy. Perhaps this was just a way to accuse moms of being overly worried. I’m not the chill mom, though I’m sure life would be much easier for everyone if I were. I try to not be overbearing and controlling or a worry wart, but unfortunately these tendencies have been written into my being since childhood and removing them has been unsuccessful and exhausting.
Whatever the reasons of carrying a large mental load, I think it’s an unspoken and often lonely truth of motherhood; more accurately the spiritual or interior load of motherhood is what contributes to loneliness. You see, even as much as we try to form friendships and community surrounding motherhood, our individual motherhood is unique and to a certain extent, purposely lonely. We are our own worst enemy, it seems.
It’s inevitable for me to compare, to feel defensive in my choices, to judge, or to distance myself from other mothers. Is it a cultural issue? I’m not sure, but if you experience similar sentiments and can relate, maybe it’s an unspoken issue we should confront and address. I think the hidden problem costs many women sanity or sound mental health. Woman are hormonal, some more than others, much of what I attribute to biology and epigenetics. I am a hormonal, sensitive woman, it’s sort of a given having been through 14 pregnancies and postpartum periods, many of which were short. Hormones can make a tremendous difference in motherhood especially when there is a lack of support.
In addition, women in an age of feminism, I believe, try to temper or ignore a need of approval or praise from others, and when it’s lacking, or worse, confirmed that approval or praise is undeserved; it stings, it penetrates, it smolders. And much like that smoldering quiet fire, one comment or disagreement can raise up a flame of panic and insecurity. For mothers, I think that’s felt much deeper, as it informs our identity and worth.
Who do women go to, to share that? I suppose if they have healthy relationships with their mothers, aunts, grandmothers, sisters, or forever friends they may feel safe to be vulnerable. Ask yourself, how safe do I feel being vulnerable? For much of my life, I have not. I’ve shared with my husband or close friend from time to time, but my innermost fears, traumas, and insecurities of motherhood I hold close to the chest. How much could my husband understand? He has his own experience in parenthood, hormones and biology influencing his experience. Other woman may be more adept to empathizing, but only to the extent of their own experience of motherhood, which could differ drastically. In addition, sharing those innermost thoughts makes them real, painful, and shameful. And that is what’s wrong with modern motherhood. We are shamed for being worried, shamed for our choices, shamed if we are too strict and shamed if we aren’t strict enough. The frequency of shaming each other and even ourselves has grown exponentially, I think, leaving each of us to feel desperate and alone. That loneliness can be so heavy sometimes, especially when consolations are few and far between.
History often paints a rosier picture of mothers supporting mothers. Mothers mothering their daughters into motherhood in a healthy, picturesque way. Did that truly exist? Or is it inevitable to be pressured into choosing similar mothering patterns, at the expense of a new generation of children? Were mothers humble and understanding if their daughter raised her children a bit differently? It’s foolish to think we could all mother the same. Some women face single motherhood, some have multiples, some have an only child, others like me have large families. Some families face medical challenges or disabilities, others don’t. I think the unfortunate truth is that when our mothering experience, family circumstance, or values don’t match exactly to other mothers we encounter often, we compare and judge each other; thus, resulting in loneliness because we can’t relate or feel inferior to another.
Does anyone else ponder these things? Or am I alone in trying to wrap my mind around my motherhood? Is there even the right way to mother? I want to say no, but maybe someone out there has figured out the secret to perfect motherhood. I find it hard to believe or accept that there is a one-way approach. My identity as mother has evolved since its conception and it continues to evolve with each added cross, event, or trauma encountered in life. I’ve in my 21 years of motherhood had to mother amidst a decline in health of myself and recently some children. Illness definitely changes motherhood. Loss changes motherhood. Vulnerability changes motherhood. I don’t know if the hard truth is that if we want to feel less lonely, we have to embrace vulnerability. I really think that’s the game changer. We can validate each other until we are blue in the face, but ultimately, we are only validating and being validated based on the facade of our motherhood, not the gritty or raw pieces that encompass who we are because we’ve learned to hide those. As long as we stay in hiding, we’ll most likely remain lonely in our motherhood.