Shit. I’ve been selling out. I’ve been settling. I’ve been settling for behavior from others and myself.
And there are layers to these epiphanies. My first one? Came when I realized I wanted to recover from my eating disorder. My second? When I wanted more from my life than forgetting the night before because of too many rum and cokes.
My 45th came today when I realized I don’t want to yell anymore. And I don’t want a partner who yells either.
I am a mother.
I am a wife.
I am a co-owner of a business.
I have a shit ton of stress.
Because, as a woman, I’m expected to “do it all”. So not only do I manage the money, I make the majority of the money upfront, and I also am expected to do all of the housework, manage my child’s appointments, playdates, extracurricular activities AND manage the psychological well-being of my child.
It was very furtive, wasn’t it? How, in the span of 70 years, men have continued to deftly sidestep responsibility in any way they can. Shit, I have to chores now? Guess I can still be lazy emotionally. Sweet.
Before any right-wing idiot or plainly, insecure men jump down my throat, I want you to do something. Walk up to the woman in your life. Ask her what she’s worried about. Chances are, her experience will be more rich than yours. She’ll be worried about being able to schedule their child’s gasto-intestinal appointment in between the clients she sees. She’ll be thinking about how her husband yelling at their child mimics the traumatic experience she had as a child and how she’s failing. She’ll be wondering if she can work out while the baby sleeps because somewhere, in the back corners of her mind, a demon tells her to be attractive for her boyfriend. Now ask yourself if you have those same thoughts.
The pressures are not equal. NOT. YET.
So when I hear, “If Mama Ain’t Happy, Nobody’s Happy”, I want to scream.
Seems to be yet another misogynistic turn of phrase, so eloquently masked as feminism. It’s misogynistic, because it puts all the pressure on the female to chart the course, when males are perfectly capable of doing some of the emotional work. They’re perfectly capable of putting themselves first, taking care of themselves so they don’t take it out on their children.
It’s just that we haven’t EXPECTED them to, since the dawn of time.
And it reinforces that disgusting, martyr-like dynamic in older women that I despise. “Poor me, I’ve put up with so much from your father.”
EXACTLY. You put up with it. You’ve enabled it. Women have enabled it. And that’s our part. And that can be changed.
Am I a sanctimommy who expects herself or others to never yell? No. But let me tell the truth and talk about yelling, because a lot of us have a ton of shame over it. And it’s important to talk about during this time of year, when kids are going back to school and transitions are driving us parents nuts.
We’ve been yelling too much in my house. I know my part – part of me has been justifying my and my husband’s trauma histories. A refined form of “If we were ok, then she’ll be ok.” “I’m a good parent.” “I’m doing the best I can.”
Maybe I’m fucking not.
Maybe I’ve been enabling years and years of the masculine approach to things. The masculine approach of anger, of forcefulness, of yelling.
All I know is, This Mama Ain’t Happy. Period. And I’ve been justifying stuff I’m not OK with. That’s my part.
And it’s my husband’s job to work on his.