Rather than not post at all, I thought it might be good to repost something I've written before, because frankly, I think I need a few reminders at the moment. Originally written three years ago as Speaking Out:
My name is Mali, and I have no children. I have no problem admitting this, and write openly about this fact, the issues around it, and my experiences both in terms of accepting that I could not have children, and in terms of embracing my life as a woman, not a mother.Yet my name is not Mali, and I don’t publicise this blog to my wider group of friends and colleagues - though I expect I may do so one day - and I worry that this makes me a fraud.
The bottom line is that under my own name, I might be more hesitant, hoping to avoid both judgement and pity. What we write about, and why we write, can, unfortunately, be easily misconstrued, as I see sometimes in discussions with people who aren’t part of this community - even when they want to understand, they struggle.But then I found this quote about speaking out and fear - born from different circumstances but no less relevant here - and my intentions for this space are renewed.