Parenting: Empowering or Draining?

It’s okay to want a life outside your children. To love them unconditionally yet feel no fulfilment from the act of parenting them. To find joy in your workplace and social outings without your kids. It’s normal to crave your past life and mourn the limitations on that lifestyle that come with having little dependents in your care. It’s understandable to just want adult communication, adult company, rather than the chatter and constant overwhelming companionship offered to you by your kids.

That’s what I’m constantly told, what I constantly hear. And it’s all true. People need to hear it, and need to know it’s true. It’s just not true for all of us. It’s not true for me, and hearing those reassurances constantly makes me feel even more alienated, even more alone in my feelings.

I love that society is bridging the gap between male and female. I love that I am less and less judged as time goes on for being the ‘mechanic’ in the family over my husband. I love that I am seeing women becoming empowered and thrive in environments that are shedding the stereotypical tendencies of the past. I have some issues with aspects of this change (and how it has come about), but that’s an entirely different topic for an entirely different time. For the most part, I’m all on board for the closing of gender gaps and all it entails.

Except that I sometimes wish we could go back to the first half of the 20th century, when it was socially acceptable for women to just be mums. To stay at home and cook and clean and tend to the kids while their husbands went to work. I don’t actually want us to go back to those days and the strictness of societal views. I just wish that in moving away from that ideology, we hadn’t gone quite so far in the reverse.

Now the mums that stay at home (or wish to) have become marginalized and are starting to feel the shame of their decision to choose that role. The reminder that childcare is heavily subsidized in Australia, that it should be available and accessible to everyone so that we may return to work more easily, is constantly reinforced. Even if we don’t work, we are encouraged to utilise childcare for the sake of getting a break from the kids, to get stuff done and have time to ourselves. We are expected to want to return to work, to crave the adult companionship of a workplace or social events, to want a break from our children.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a super-mum. I get overwhelmed, I get tired, I get cranky. I feel touched out and want to scream some days. I wish I could go and sit on a toilet for five whole minutes in silence without interruption (and writing that I think I just discovered why my body constantly waits until I’ve just started a shift to suddenly be desperate to use the bathroom). I have bags under my eyes and have children screaming at me and wonder how I’m going to pull through the day. I feel the stress.

I just also get so much fulfilment from the task of parenting. I love my kids, and when I sit down and think about everything, I realise that parenting them is not what drains me. Even the hard moments when there’s nothing but screaming and tantrums occurring, it’s not the actual tantrum that is jarring. It’s usually the fact that I need to deal with this tantrum in a timely manner to get to work, or to finish cleaning the house, or get some other time sensitive task done. If I had all the time in the world, and no other commitments, I’d happily sit and sort through those little emotions with my kids, and I’d be upset by their crying, but I wouldn’t have the same level of stress that it normally induces.

Frankly, I don’t miss my adult freedom. I don’t miss going out for drinks or staying up late at night. Most social gatherings were ultimately draining for me, introverted as I am. They were stressful, with the constant need to have an enjoyable time despite the drain on my pockets and energy. Any aspects of that life that I miss, I can still access with my children, and to a better extent.

What I craved was the deep conversations, the adult intelligence to discuss things in a meaningful, productive way. To talk things through and communicate on a deeper level. Which is all more possible with other parents than it is with strangers in a club. I found no enjoyment in socialisation for myself, but now social gatherings are opportunities for my children to have fun and build connections, which I do find enjoyment in. They’ve not been detrimental to my adult life in any way; if anything they’ve improved it.

Even my relationship. People say children are a strain on a marriage and limit the opportunities for meaningful romance. I’d beg to differ. We went through some tough times whilst having kids, but our relationship has only become stronger. The tests of parenting have given us the opportunity to learn and grow beyond anything we’d be capable of without that push and need. And while romantic moments are few and far between now, there is a greater appreciation for those moments, and for each other, that was taken for granted pre-children.

Career-driven parents that want to return to work are commended, rewarded, praised. There’s an understanding that they love their kids, but they also love their lives beyond parenthood. There’s an acknowledgement for the difficulties in balancing those truths, but people understand. People relate to that.

I wish I could confidently express how much I love being a mother, but I don’t seem to experience that same communal moment, that understanding from others. When I try, I’m met with sympathy, as if I’m in denial about my wants and that denial is more relatable than if I was actually telling the truth. But frankly, I am telling the truth. Parenting is bloody hard, there’s no denying it. Yet I love it. It makes me empowered, it makes me feel like myself.

People say they lose themselves in becoming a parent. There’s constant conversations about ‘finding yourself’ again once you escape the franticness of infants and younger children. Doing things to fill your personal cup, yet all the examples are things done alone or away from kids. Have a bath by yourself, go out and get a haircut or manicure, go have a drink with friends without your kids in tow. No one acknowledges that the best moments, the most cup filling moments (for me), are those where I’m with my family and we experience things together. Those moments might be exhausting, but they are uplifting and are what truly fills my cup. Though a bath would be nice, I’ll admit.

I often feel like I was in a journey to find myself, and having kids shortened that journey. I feel more like myself than I ever did, more sure of who I am and what I want and where my priorities lie. I am me, and have no seeking to do, though I also acknowledge that we are constantly changing and evolving, and I am too. But I don’t have any need to find myself, to return to myself. I am myself the most when I’m with my kids, which wasn’t an option before I’d had them.

Yet when I try to express all this, it falls on deaf ears. I feel hypocritical. The words feel wrong. Parenting didn’t come naturally to me, it wasn’t easy, and I struggled. I still do. Yet there’s this general idea that doing what you love shouldn’t be hard. And it’s a stupid idea. Passions present challenges. People wouldn’t reach the top of their sport or art or career if they didn’t hold both some level of passion for what they do and overcome many challenges along the way. This is forgotten in the regards of parenthood.

In admitting that I love being a parent, I ultimately degrade my struggles. Those that don’t find enjoyment from parenting that suffer the same struggles are instantly deemed as having a worse experience, simply due to the fact I should be finding some enjoyment in my struggles where they do not. My struggles shouldn’t be degraded, they should be acknowledged and my efforts appreciated just like any others. I should be able to express my love of this role, without repercussions for verbalising that decision.

It’s okay to want your lifestyle to revolve entirely around your children. To love them unconditionally and feel fulfilment from the inescapable task of raising them. To find more joy with time and social outings spent with your family than on your own. It’s normal to crave this new life you’ve found and prefer the shift in lifestyle that comes with having little dependents in your care. It’s understandable to just want to spend time with your kids over adults, and enjoy the curious conversations of a child rather than the stress-filled, often negative companionship offered by other adults.

Most importantly, it’s important to remember that we are constantly changing. Priorities are constantly shifting. Nothing in life is strictly black and white. We mustn’t just acknowledge the existence of the grey area, but also remember that there’s a constant shift between the black and white, and we are never set in one spot for eternity. One day we may want more time with our kids, the next we may want for a break. That’s okay, that’s normal, and whatever we want in the moment, those are our wants and wishes to claim and no one can deny us that.