In celebration of International Women’s day I went out with a group of women for a girl’s night. Ok not really it was simple coincidence that our dinner fell on the same day. I had by the time I went out for dinner however been made aware of what day it was and so it did occur to me what a great way it was to mark the day.
Now it so happens that I don’t know a few of the women I dined with but it did seem we all got on quite well and I think we had a rather nice and pleasant evening talking and joking and laughing. It was really quite nice and the food was absolutely delish.
There was only one point in the night’s conversation that was disquieting to me. At one point our conversation turned to the age at which we had children. My one friend is expecting and is now technically an “older mom”. She is dealing with the possible added risks and also with the criticism imagined or real about having another child later in life.
I don’t really consider her an older mom nor do I give much credence to there being a perfect or best age to have children anyways. I, as in most other things, believe each person’s life can bring about many different options and paths and only the person living that life knows which choices are right for them.
There are women who become mothers young, those when they are older, those who are in between old and young and those who choose not to have children at all. There are women who have one child and those who have four. There are women who go to extraordinary measures to become mothers and those who don’t. Some who planned and plotted out the specific steps they will take to motherhood, those who were surprised by it and some whose plans were changed along the way.
There is no one right way to become a mother each person’s path depends on so many factors that it can only be so. That is my own opinion of course and I’m sorry to say I have seen many times over my own years of motherhood that there is a real bias about the “right” age to become a mother, particularly from other mothers.
As the conversation flowed around me and it turned into a conversation about how glad some were to not have had their own children pre-thirties or god forbid pre mid-twenties as I did I suddenly fell quiet.
It just so happened that when the conversation turned I had a huge mouthful of chicken and by the time I was able to speak again I wasn’t quite sure how to interject that they were basically talking about me.
Some of the women I went out with did not realize that I was and I suppose still am a young mother and at this point I now realize I quite studiously began ignoring the conversation.
I’m not ashamed of being a young mother. I just couldn’t quite figure out the way to tactfully say that I am one without seeming defensive. I didn’t want to embarrass anyone who may have thought they had said something rude or offensive. Admittedly a few comments were walking the line but nothing had quite crossed it yet.
I’m afraid to say that I if the friend I had arrived with had not suddenly thrown me into the conversation with a slightly panicked “you were pretty young when you had E right?” that we weren’t that far off from a downright disapproval of all younger mothers being expressed.
I have heard much criticism and back handed comments about being a young mother since I had my oldest child and it no longer particularly bothers me. I’m confident and happy with the life I lead and the choices I have made. I have no need or reason to defend my life. This is who I am if you don’t like the choices I have made well too damn bad it isn’t really your concern.
The point is that I despite not feeling a need to defend myself or particularly insulted by the conversation is that I still can’t quite help myself from wishing that everyone would realize that none of us should ever make a judgment about someone else’s life choices. To each his own, for good or bad we are all equal and the more women and men who feel that way the better.
After all you never know if the person you’re talking about is also the person you’re talking to.
