‘Call me by my name’ Nancy on motherhood
Mother’s Day conjures up images of wholesomeness. It is an event made up of showing appreciation or by delivering gifts that are meant to evoke rest and recouperation like ‘breakfast in bed’. A curious distraction for those of us who remain eternally tired. The bed, is a site of severe exhaustion, at least in those early few weeks.
I mean really, who is sleeping?
But I digress, the notion of motherhood is connected to all things whole, however the definition of ‘wholesome’ is all but replaced by another meaning entirely.
For some, like me, it’s a loss of a sense of self, a loss of identity, and in its place something that most people would define as my one and only purpose.
Let me preface by stating this day, like most, is an entirely made-up concept. Mothers, come in all forms or functions and the day itself serves an important and timely reminder to look after those who look after us.
However, in light of this…there’s this expectation that every choice a woman makes is either in direct alignment or opposition to her maternal timeline. An expectation that claims motherhood is the ultimate destination and disregards any successful accomplishment, aspiration or dream that was achieved prior to reaching it.
I have spent my entire life, even from a young age, deconstructing the notion that motherhood was anything but rewarding and actually a complete performance of feeling worthy. Worthy to stand next to another individual, to proudly announce “look at this wonderful thing I did, I grew a human” and therefore I am worthy of your adoration, your acceptance, your approval, even.
But this ‘worthiness’ is seldom directed inward. We have simply detracted from ourselves in a bid to win over approval, from not only our significant others, but from society itself.
What I’m trying to unpack here is this desire for worth being derived from the idea of motherhood rather than our whole selves. Ourselves, who we ignored as soon as baby arrived, because they needed nurturing and we didn’t. Simply because we have been convinced this is our role and our role to accomplish by ourselves. The tragic irony. What accomplishment if we are to discard the very notion of ourselves in the process?
We are encouraged as individuals to be our WHOLE selves when we meet our partners and yet when we become mothers we are expected to rid ourselves of everything that came before.
Only to fill a void with this precious new life. As if the void is emblematic of our former lives. As if women, prior to motherhood, negotiated an empty, meaningless life with no real purpose. This narrative, this ‘concoction’ couldn’t be further from the truth. What we need is the truth.
“Ourselves, who we ignored as soon as baby arrived, because they needed nurturing and we didn’t. Simply because we have been convinced this is our role and our role to accomplish by ourselves. The tragic irony. What accomplishment if we are to discard the very notion of ourselves in the process? ”
Which begs the question…since when did our identities become so attached to motherhood that we can’t recognise our whole selves outside of this label?
Am I expected to feel whole once I have a child? That certainly wasn’t the case for me. Indeed, I felt like a fully formed, successful, functioning member of society prior to having a child. I also had a name. A name gifted to me by my own mother. A name that was attached to more than a child. A name by which people, friends, family, and colleagues, knew to address me as such. As my child entered my world, however, I suddenly departed it. The name I bore, a distant memory, no longer my own but tethered to this little human I grew. I was no longer called by my name, but as my son’s mum. My name, lost. Mum, is that now my name? It is not the name I chose for myself, nor the one I want to be defined by.
Then the question that often gets asked with such transgressive critiques of motherhood: why then did you have a child? Surely if you didn’t want the label, you should have remained childfree (or was it childless, you decide)?
The answer is, while I yearned to have a child, I didn’t agree to erasing my identity as a woman. As a person. I am someone who is kind, generous, intellectual, talented, radiant, sexual, educated, desirable, vulnerable, strong, and brave. I am a WHOLE person, as we ALL are.
I wanted a child, because I wanted to raise a good human. Nothing more, nothing less.
What I didn’t want or agree to is signing this unspoken, all-binding contract that as a mother I must surrender all the parts of me that make me whole. I have no intention of feeling obligated to meet or match others’ expectations of a socially constructed role. While it may be important to be a parent, but it is also important to be recognised as who I choose to be and have always been, with or without the child.
“The answer is, while I yearned to have a child, I didn’t agree to erasing my identity as a woman. As a person. I am someone who is kind, generous, intellectual, talented, radiant, sexual, educated, desirable, vulnerable, strong, and brave. I am a WHOLE person, as we ALL are. ”
My son remains an integral part of my life, he is learning to embody a wonderful supporting role, while also carving out a main character title for whatever he chooses to write for himself. However, he identifies. With no obligation to roles, or labels.
While mothers have the ability to craft our own stories, our own narratives, we also deserve to be celebrated for the whole book and not simply chapters that society has deemed more meaningful.
This Mother’s Day, I want to be celebrated for my whole self. Not just the aspects that are praised for their ‘maternal worth’ but for all of my facets. For all that I do and all that I am, not just inside but outside of the home. Because I am more than just the sum of my parts. Because Mother’s Day or not, I am worthy of celebration…and you are too.
Words - Nancy Johnson-Hunt
Images - Ash Jones
