Happily Ever After

Hands up who likes romance novels? I confess .... I rarely read them. In fact, I can’t remember when I last did. Oh wait, I read some of the Bridgerton novels after the first series of the Netflix show. Though I view that as more of a research effort than as a fan reading the books! (For the record, I’m a fan of the TV series, not a fan of the books.) But I like the fact that a happy ending is guaranteed. The one thing that is common in all romance novels is the Happily Ever After. And that’s something we all need.

A romance novelist herself, Steff Green (who writes as Steffanie Holmes) wrote an essay in Otherhood about the pressure – from society, the romance industry and the readers themselves – that demands that the Happily Ever After includes marriage and babies. In her essay "More Schlongs, more cats," she points out all the changes* in romance novels over the years, but finds that the insistence remains that traditional marriage and babies is the only possible Happily Ever After

It is changing, but so slowly. We've all seen that. It feels to me that there's almost more pressure on young women in the last decade to confirm and have children than there was in the 1990s, when I was subject to some of this pressure. It distresses me, not only because of the pain it causes those who wanted them, but because it doesn't allow young women the valid choice to not have children, or tell a story that a life without children is legitimate, equal in value, and happy.

Yes, some people get the traditional happily ever after, and it's perfect for them. But so many don't. They can't afford children, can't have them, or have other responsibilities that would make it difficult or impossible. They might not find the right partner and not want to go it alone, or they find the right one who doesn't want children, or doesn't want to do assisted reproduction or adopt. Or the partner they thought was right turns out not to be, even after the children arrived, and results in struggles for years. The concept of a Happily Ever After doesn't allow for sleepless nights, marriage breakdowns, ill children, tragedies, financial difficulties, or in other words, normal life.

But there is not just one Happily Ever After. Life is not that conformist, not that rigid, and not that unkind, even if many of our societies want us to think that way. I know plenty of No Kidding people with thriving careers, great relationships (from both before and after childlessness), alternative lifestyles, interesting hobbies, satisfying volunteer roles, contented lives, etc. I'm one of them. In my professional and private life, I was the most satisfied, the happiest, when I was doing a mix of volunteering, challenging and varied professional roles, and personal travel. This was some 5-10 years after my last loss. Even today, post job loss/covid/health difficulties, there's very little to complain about, and those are almost all privileged problems. If this is my Happily Ever After, then it's pretty damn good!

Contentment, happiness, and fulfilment are possible after trauma and loss, even thought it often feels impossible at the outset. There iss a rainbow at the end of the storm. And a Happily Ever After pot of gold, if we look for it.

Happily Ever After. It looks different for everyone. It's about time society figured that out.

 

 

* hence the reference, “more schlongs”

Administrative Note: I’ve noticed that many of my links in previous posts now seem broken. I don’t know how this has happened, but I’m trying to fix them when I find them. Bear with me, or please, point them out when you find them. I’ll be in your debt.

 

Unexpected sense in a discussion about the childless

I'm sitting here thinking about what I might write this week, and there's suddenly a No Kidding topic on the radio. In real time. How fortuitous! Apparently, there are social media videos trending at the moment saying kid-free couples are luckier financially than those who are parents. (At this point, I stopped typing, and started listening!)

They had an economist on who made two main points:

1)  there is no evidence of this disparity, yet there are poor and rich people whether or not you have children. Double income no kids (DINKs) people are often both in low income jobs, and financial inequality in NZ is all about how much income is coming into the house, not whether they have children or not.

2) welfare support programmes have, in recent decades, been focused on those who do have children (eg, we have a Working for Families tax credit, or there are programmes to reduce child poverty, etc), and therefore there is a compelling case that those without children also need extra support, as they have not had the benefits/financial buffers of these other programmes.

The radio programme has a host, the guest economist, and two guest panellists. It surprised me how very careful everyone was. I was bracing myself for the stereotypes, especially when the host said, "But aren't we always told that having children is expensive?" But the conversation didn't go that way. It was pointed out that maybe those without children spend their money on different things, or might live in more expensive urban areas, so don't have any more savings or wealth than those with children. That they might even "fill the hole" left without children by buying fancy cars or eating out ("or travelling," I silently added to myself).

One person commented how terribly insensitive these videos were to those trying to have children, or those who were unable to have children, and another person mentioned that the smugness of some of these videos might be a backlash to the fact they feel judged by parents. That by bragging about their lives they were making up for the condescension from parents that having children makes someone  "more spiritually whole." 

This was the most balanced, carefully unemotional discussion of a parent vs childless issue that I have ever head. Clearly it was raised as a topic because it usually gets people involved in lively discussion, because everyone likes to defend their position. But the host and panellists and economist all exceeded my expectations. They did not descend into an us vs them debate, but all stood back, chose their words carefully, and considered the evidence. Just as I would want them to do. It was wonderful.

You can listen to it here. It starts at 16.08 minutes into the discussion.

I have one proviso about this discussion. But I'm going to save it for discussion some other time. In the meantime, maybe there is hope if there can be sensible, considerate discussions on our mainstream media?

No Kidding lessons from a book about fear and danger

I read, or more accurately, listened to an amazing book a week or so ago. It was one I think everyone should read – it should be the basis of teaching all boys and men how to behave and how not to behave, and of teaching women and girls that it is okay to not always be “nice.” It was The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker. It’s an older book, but still very relevant. I found it fascinating in terms of how often we play down our natural instincts, and allow social conditioning to take over. Essentially, it is about violence and aggression, how to recognise the signs of danger, and keep ourselves safe. That in itself is extremely important, and I wish that all my nieces and nephews could read and understand this book. If I could give them one gift, especially my nieces, it would be to learn to listen to their instincts, and shed the social conditioning that tells them they are wrong.

But I found it fascinating on another level too. There were takeaways that applied for those going through infertility, and those of us living our No Kidding lives afterwards.

There are lots of good quotes. It was impossible to stop and record them as I was climbing the hills around my house listening to the audiobook, so I’ve probably forgotten the best. But here are some of the points that resonated with me.

I was pleased when he talked about social conditioning, and how controlled we can be by it, whether we are thinking about what is expected of us, behaving the way we are “supposed to” behave, wanting what we are told to want, afraid to fail, refraining from standing up for ourselves because we want to be “polite” or “nice” or undemanding, ignoring warning signals because "boys will be boys," etc. It all sounded so familiar as a woman, but especially to those of us who have had to throw this off in order to be able to accept our No Kidding lives. 

I immediately thought of the way it is assumed that we will all become parents, dismissing any niggling fears we might have that it might not be a possibility because "everyone does it" or "I'm just being stupid." I thought of someone dismissing warnings I'd given about when to seek fertility help, but a year on there is no baby. I thought too of the fact that at times women (and men) find it so hard to see the possibility of a good life without children, the way we (and others) view quitting as failure, the way we fear or are told that we are "not real women" (or men) because we are not parents, or even just the way we automatically feel we have to answer people when they ask intrusive questions, or justify our choices, or don't stand up for ourselves when we are isolated. Social conditioning doesn't always work in our favour. I've always felt that. But this book allowed me to believe it.

I was also fascinated by his comment that we can become addicted to the highs (eg relief, or hope) we experience after the lows of a bad experience, and so stay in unhealthy situations. Whilst he mentioned this fact as one explanation for why women stay in violent relationships (and came dangerously close to victim blaming), it was yet another reason that no-one ever considers. It also made me think of those of us who have been through IVF. The low of not conceiving, of a cycle that did not result in pregnancy, or of a pregnancy loss, can be followed by the high we feel filled with hope when we start a new cycle, or have a positive pregnancy test. It is that emotional high of hope, imagining the feeling of victory and success and acclaim and acceptance that will ensue, that keeps us going. We are consequently prepared to try even when the odds are completely against us. I know this suggestion is extremely offensive to some. But I’ve personally experienced it, even over just a few years. The fact that being free of the lows, being free of the rollercoaster, can be an even greater and much longer lasting high (in due course) is too often impossible to imagine.

A key point he made in this book was the warning sign of the persistent refusal of the word “no.”Most women, if not all, would recognise this. As he says,

“No' is a word that must never be negotiated, because the person who chooses not to hear it is trying to control you." 

That's such an important message for everyone. And it made me think about the No Kidding objections we get when we say, “no, we don’t have children” or “no, it is never going to happen.” Then we get the "have you thought about" and "just one more try" and "my cousin ate pineapple" or "this worked for me" or "I know it will work" rebuttals. These refusals to accept our “no” is insulting at the least. It can become almost dangerous, in that we know we cannot trust this person with our feelings.

“Worry will almost always buckle under interrogation.” 

I LOVE this. I’ve talked about something similar myself, when I’ve recommended dismissing the negative thoughts through honest questioning, or when I’ve wondered why someone might behave a certain way towards me. When I ask myself what is the logic behind these thoughts, or the worry I have about how someone views me, I almost always get the answer I need. That I am worrying needlessly, and that this is not about me. It allows me to dismiss judgement, gives me back my self-respect, and restores my confidence that I am equal and worthy. If the answer shows that concern is appropriate, then at least I can act on that answer. Oddly, although I’ve applied it extensively in adjusting to my No Kidding life, and a little in my normal life, it was still something of a revelation that I should use this technique when I’m worrying about “things that might happen” in general! I know it works, from first-hand experience in training my brain to adjust to being childless. So now I’m going to try to stop worrying about the roof flying off in the wind, or an earthquake!

He talked about the liberation of fear in this way. It's not the liberation from all fear, because that puts us in danger. But it is all about understanding our feelings, and our fear, and knowing what is valid and what is not. This is so important. I always remember hearing, as a diplomat, visiting NZers tell me that Bangkok was safer than their home town in NZ. What they had failed to recognise was that a) their fears at home weren't always valid, or were inflated because of specific but anecdotal knowledge of incidents, and b) they felt free of fear in Bangkok because they didn't know what dangers there were, how to read the people or the crowds, etc. Being alert to our fear, and feeling fear that holds up under questioning and is valid means you can do something about it. But when you know it isn’t real, or hasn’t happened yet, you can let it go. In this way, impala (for example) are alert and ready to run when they sense danger that a lion or leopard is nearby, but otherwise they are not worried, grazing happily, their heart rates down, bodies relaxed, etc. I’ve often thought that would be an enviable life skill, and how hard I would find that!

But when I think about it, I think this liberation of fear can also apply to us when we go through infertility – the fear and dread so many of us experienced contemplating a life without children wasn’t really justified because a) it hadn’t happened yet, b) our fears were influenced by social conditioning, and b) we hadn’t yet experienced it. Thankfully, I’ve found that when we realise that accepting our childless lives means that we can then make our lives into something that is not worthy of fear. (Or not specifically about fear due to not having children.) This liberation allows us to let go of our fear, and usher in the joy: joy in our lives that are free of social conditioning, of fear, and filled with self-respect. Joy is so much more worthy than fear.

 

Normalising childlessness

The internet has been abuzz discussing Jennifer Aniston's comments about infertility and IVF the last week or so. There is so much good writing about it, I hope you can find it and read it all. Some of it is included in my blogroll here. But another helpful post here by Loribeth at The Road Less Travelled has summarised it, along with other No Kidding writing, including from our much loved Jess. Thanks, Loribeth!

A friend shared the Aniston article on social media, and there was a comment there that perhaps explains why I don't talk much on social media about living a No Kidding life. The person commented that a sports announcer had said publicly that she had several unsuccessful IVFs, but was still trying. The commenter said that she feels bad every time she sees her. She commented that she Aniston's disclosure resonated better with her, because she talked about wanting kids, not getting them, but that her life is good without them.

It was the pity felt by the commenter that struck me. The commenter was feeling this empathetically, as she is in the same situation. But if she feels it, then obviously others (ie parents ) might feel that too. And we all know that pity is the last think any of us want! Empathy yes, but pity? No!

It is important that talking about being childless not by choice is normalised. That people know that IVF fails more often than it works. That it is recognised that this is a possibility or even a probability, and that that is normal.That it is horrible to live with. But that it is not a sentence for a sad or lonely life. That life can and will be good. The more this is spoken about as normal, the better. That way, maybe we wouldn't feel that it is quite so awful for the world to know? And maybe the world would learn to react more sensitively? Or to simply accept that not everyone will get the children they want? To stop the pressure on women to procreate, because they don't know what is going on behind the scenes. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Feminism and childlessness

 I was prompted to write* this by a BBC article on a UN Gender Study which “found that 90% of people hold some sort of bias against women.”

 “How depressing,” I thought. “How depressing that it is so unsurprising.”

 I think I’ve been a feminist since I was a little girl. I was certainly a feminist before I was officially “No Kidding” or childless, before I entered the workforce, and before puberty. It’s how I see the world. How the world has seen me. And so of course, reading these articles, my mind immediately went to how frustrating it is in our lives when we are pigeon-holed by society, in business, politics and government, healthcare, sport, the arts, domestic arrangements, etc. You name it! We are further constrained by our parental status – whether as a mother, or as a childless, No Kidding woman. I took it a bit further, seeing that discrimination against us, as women without children or as mothers, is a form of misogyny. It does not see us as individuals, but as objects, and judges us by our biology, rather than by our personalities, our characteristics, our flaws and our talents.

Motherhood, as great as it may be, has been a way of keeping women in control and at home. It is seen as “women’s work” and isn’t paid. It is belittled, generally by men, who seem to – in general – escape the really hard work that mothers do. How often do we hear praise for a man doing – for maybe an afternoon, or a couple of days – what their partners/wives have been doing for years? Even now, even in 2020? In pandemic lockdowns, who has been doing the childcare and home-schooling, even whilst trying to hold down their jobs when working from home?

 I’ve often wondered why, in the last twenty years or so, there has been such a rise in the cult of motherhood, even at the same time that there has been a rise in expectations of what women need to do to be considered “a good mother.” It seems as if we can’t win. You can’t win if you are not a mother. You can’t win if you are. You can’t win if you are anything less than “perfect.” And who decides what is “perfect?”

People, even women who have achieved things no other woman has achieved before them, struggle with change. I wrote some time ago about working with New Zealand’s first woman trade commissioner. Like so many women who achieved in the 1970s and earlier, Frances never married. There was no legitimate reason for her to stay at home. There was no legitimate reason for them to discriminate against her at work – they couldn’t argue that sending her to an overseas posting was going to mean that her husband’s career (like husband’s 20 years later) would suffer. She was so accustomed to the system and the times that she was surprised when she discovered I hadn’t changed my name when I married. I wasn’t the only woman in my department who had done that – many of my best friends were there, and didn’t change their names, or never married their partners – but maybe I was the first she asked about it. “Is that legal?” she said. Then, still struggling with the concept that my “maiden,” unmarried, name was simply my name just like her name was also the name she was born with, she asked what name my passport was in.

She struggled with change. Many women struggle with change, and struggle to see women in positions of authority, or women expecting help at home with the kids. “I didn’t have that, and survived okay,” they may think. Sometimes I wonder if it is jealousy. Or disappointment that they didn’t have the options. Women who have not had careers (either by choice or forced by society’s strictures) or those who have always worked for men, may struggle with the idea that one woman can be above them, when they are accustomed to seeing men making the decisions, getting all the power. They still use the old misogynistic standards of success and power because they’ve been brain-washed. They cannot imagine that women could be just as powerful. (And I haven’t even touched on the whole sexual objectification of women. That would keep me here all week!) Men, of course, struggle with the idea that they may lose their place and privilege. However powerless they might be, they like to feel that someone is beneath them. Power systems are taught, on both sides of the power gap. Discrimination is taught. Ultimately, misogyny is taught. 

And I think that’s why some women with children often look down on those of us without. So they infantalise us, pity us, put us in a box that is lower than them. They want to feel a little superior to someone else, when they may feel constrained or judged. I’ve written about that elsewhere. I think it’s why some of the vehemently childfree object to those of us who are No Kidding but don’t want to be called childLESS, usingthe label childfree. They don’t think we deserved it.  

But my point of all this is that we women** have so much in common. None of us wants to be judged because of our biology and what it can or cannot do, or to be restricted because of who society perceives us to be. We should remember that. We’re all women. We don’t need to turn on each other. We’re in this together.

 

 * Apologies to any No Kidding writers who covered these articles already. Let me know in the comments if you did.

** Further apologies to any male readers of my blog. This one was just for the women. I’m sure you can relate to a lot of it though.

Societal change and the Childless

For the last five months, I’ve been writing mostly on my No Kidding 2020 Project, running through the emotions and actions of healing. I’ve enjoyed it, but rather got out of the habit of writing. There are a lot of topics for which I have half-written posts sitting in my files drafts, but my mind isn’t quite there yet.

I thought I’d comment briefly on Loribeth’s post last Monday about the cultural shaming of childlessness, and wondering if we would gradually see greater societal acceptance over the next 20-40 years in the way acceptance of the LGBTQ community has normalised. Go read her post here – as you can see, it got me thinking.

I like to think that in the future the No Kidding community will feel as accepted and unexceptional in society as those who are parents. But I see several possible scenarios, varying from the pessimistic to the more hopeful:

• The first is not hopeful. I think that today, compared to perhaps 40 years ago, there is sometimes more shame and judgement of people who don’t have children because there are “things we could do” to avoid our situation – eg, IVF/donor egg or sperm, surrogacy, or the old perennial, “you always adopt,” with reference to international adoptions* where there is seemingly an “unlimited supply” of babies. (We see these assumptions even within the infertility community, and we therefore know they are out there in wider society.) So with all this technology and all these options, when we come out of an infertility or other journey without children, when we had at one time hoped for them, is seen as failure, and either a lack of will, or perhaps insufficient finances, which brings its own judgement, given that societies often equate financial well-being with morality. The very availability of options means that there is less understanding of why some people cannot and do not have children. That’s not going away anytime soon.

• Thirty or forty years ago, when feminism was all about choice and opportunity, I was hopeful that it would mean that women wouldn’t be judged on whether they had children or not. But society has become even more pronatal – perhaps as a backlash to feminism, ensuring that women stay in “their place” and are less able to challenge the position of men. We’ve seen women who are childless take prominent positions and bear enormous criticism because they are not mothers. And our own PM Jacinda Ardern was criticised by choosing to become a mother whilst she was leading our country, though I hear little criticism along those lines these days, it might ramp up in the next few months as we approach our election in September. I don’t know how feminism is going to progress in the future, but the position of women in society is still difficult, is still subject to judgement and criticism and objectification. Whilst I have seen some positive developments over the last decades, I see a lot of stuff that has just been reinvented and recycled in different packaging to keep us in our place. So I’m not wildly hopeful that feminism will improve things for the childless.

• Our numbers are however growing. And we are speaking out more. So maybe we will reach a critical mass that sees us recognised as a legitimate group in society, with a recognised voice and specific interests. I hope so. It’s one of the reasons I continue to blog. But we have a way to go.

• Finally, I wonder if issues like climate change and environmental degradation will see a societal shift away from glorification of parenthood and towards an increasing recognition of the real impact of the world’s burgeoning population on the planet. Maybe society will recognise the dangers of unmitigated population increases and realise the value of the childless population, and the contribution we make towards the next generations. I don’t know. The risks to the planet of continued population growth are rarely uttered in any discussions I hear. I keep wondering how long commentators and politicians can continue to wilfully ignore it.

I realise I’ve come across as quite pessimistic. I'm not sure if that's representative of my views, or the fact it is Monday, and it's cold and rainy here!

What do you think?

* PS. It’s worth reading Lori LavenderLuz’s post and links on international adoption and the assumptions around it here, and Jess's post on the same topic here.