Confessions of a Forty-Something: Some No Kidding Thoughts

I’ve just finished reading Confessions of a Forty-Something F**k Up by Alexandra Potter. I think I put it on my to-read list after Loribeth wrote a review on it earlier in the year. I deliberately haven’t read her review (here) until after I wrote this. Thanks again for the recommendation, Loribeth!

It was an easy and entertaining read, one I could relate to, but I had some conflicting thoughts about it. Brief scenario is that a forty-something woman finds herself back in the UK after splitting up from her fiancé, broke and homeless. Hilarity ensues. It is funny. But it is also sad at times, and as a childless readers, there are a lot of moments when I thought, “I could have written this” or "this sounds like me." And even a “I wonder if she read my blog?!”

There was much to like. Here are my favourite points:

• Other people’s lives are never what they seem – whether in real life, or on social media. We all have hidden pain and loss and struggle.
• Guilt and shame and feelings of unworthiness are extremely common. We all just hide it well.
• A new, older, friend shows that life is to be lived, regardless of what happens to you.
• You will come through the other side of pain and loss.
  
• Her FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) can become her JOMO (Joy of Missing Out). It’s the main message of No Kidding in NZ, and I might adopt JOMO (when it is appropriate).
• There is no one way to live life.
• There is no specific way to measure success.
• There is no plan.
• Humour can help us cope.
• But so too does being honest about our lives.
• Being honest can lift a burden – not just for us, but for friends who feel they can share and be honest then too. 
• Friends disappear, but they come back.
• There is no miracle baby.
• She calls out all the ridiculous messages women are inundated with from social media and the media (magazines/celebrity culture, etc)
• And points out how many of these are contradictory.
• That all these points are relevant to those of us without kids, or just to women/people in general.

However, there were things that annoyed me. None of them are particularly surprising to those of us without children, as we are used to seeing stereotypes represented in the media, both fiction and non-fiction. It’s that tendency to try to play things down, not to rock the boat, maintain the status quo.

Here is what I didn’t like (attempting to keep spoilers at a minimum):

• The single childless woman was the butt of all the jokes.
• Childless friends and aunts seem to have to love their friends’ kids. It's compulsory. And of course, some of us do. But not everyone does. And I dislike the way it is presented, in that it’s almost a requirement of being childless, some way of “proving” that we’re “real women.” (See my recent post).
• The childless friend is hurt, but doesn’t complain. (Talk about not wanting to rock the boat!) I had this issue with another similar book, Emma Gannon’s Olive. It’s almost as if the authors don’t want to antagonise mothers (who might also read and buy the book), so they don’t actually call out the mother characters for their obtuse behaviour towards someone they would claim to love. Yet as I wrote recently here, fair is fair. Our feelings matter too. Of course, I understand that this is fiction, and one character can't necessarily represent all our feelings about being childless. In fact, maybe I'm projecting here. Maybe I wanted the character to say everything to her friends that I couldn't say to mine. Hmmmm.
• We all know that friendships change, and often to the detriment of the childless friend. To see that portrayed was fine. But the rekindling of the friendships were done so easily and without hurt that it seemed unrealistic to me. Will the childless ever feel totally safe in those friendships again? That’s never an issue that seems to be raised. Maybe that's a different book. Or says more about me than the author.
  
• The idea that there has to be some form of a prescription ending that is happily ever after. Unfortunately, life isn't like that, and the book almost betrays its purpose, and the majority of its message, by going there, by defining what society thinks should be a "happily ever after" storyline. And surely, happily ever after is different to everyone.
  

Fortunately, I think the majority of the narrative portrays the feelings of single and or childless women in a reasonably accurate way. It certainly voices our insecurities, our reactions to media and social media stereotypes, and calls out smug celebrities. And of course, just like with Olive, it was very pleasing to see a childless main character and story arc. Still, I hope that future books don't automatically portray a single and/or childless woman as a basket case (or f**k up). I hope that future books aren't so rare that they are comment or review worthy. May this become so common that one day it's just a book, and people both with and without kids can read it on its literary merits. I know, I'm a dreamer. But I can hope.