We all know about pronatalism because it surrounds us every day and is unavoidable in books, magazines, newspapers, advertising, television, films, social media, at work, on the radio, in politics and at the bus-stop. We repeatedly hear about how we’ll never know true love or how lucky we are to not have kids; two extremes of having the worst life and also the best? We’re told how our life must be, but rarely asked. Our truth is hidden, buried, ignored and dismissed, because pronatalism dictates parents know the truth and that includes ours.
There is no question that being a parent can be hard with days of high emotions both good and bad. Parents aslo have the added complications of deciding what they share on social media and how they compare to other parents; are they fitting in, doing better or doing worse? However, no matter how wonderful or hard their day is, society suggests we still sit below them in the shadow of their pedestals.
The childless are speaking out more than ever but when we do parents often twist our words, adding labels that are derogatory and belittling. We can’t possibly feel fulfilled and happy because we don’t have children, but perhaps the thousands of pounds saved in our bank account helps to fill our lonely days (because of course we are rich, aren’t tired and have so much free time). Continual mixed messages that ensure we are not truly seen for who we are, as our voice is yet again hushed and silenced.
When our faces appear in film we are the evil step-parent, the women who plots to kidnap a child, the stony-faced cold hearted company director or the sad and weird cat lady. Childlessness dictates the worst of society, the characters who fall into the dark areas where no one wants to reside; the evil of humanity.
I am pretty sure some people will interpret my words as bitterness. The woman who’s heart has never been open to love and is jealous of every parent. I’m not denying that bitterness has not been part of my grief and that it may still raise its head on odd occasions, however it does not dictate the words on this page. I am purely laying down the thoughts on how at times the world appears. How parents can sometimes treat the childless, how parents have at times treated me.
The harsh reality is not always pretty, doesn’t always lead down a rose coloured path to a happy ever after ending. Sometimes the disenfranchised grief of childlessness feels like trudging through mud, sliding with no direction on ice and crawling on our knees over broken glass. We can loose our way when no-one is offering a hand of support, or alternatively looks but doesn’t see our truth and throws a casual “you can have one of mine” into the mix.
Yet again, for anyone thinking differently, this is not a pity post. It’s a reality check. An honest mixture of thoughts on how life can at times be a bummer. Yes, life has its good points too, and there are perks to being childless as there are downfalls to being a parent. I’m not blind to the hardships of parenthood, I’m just asking that parents pause for a moment, open their eyes, and glimpse at what can be the reality of childlessness.
No matter how many times we are told of the perks in our life, childless is not a word of joy when used against us, the childless for life. It holds insinuations of a world without, a life of lacking. It is a problem that can not be fixed so is best dismissed with a “god must have other plans for you”. Parents may suggest they would love a childless life but in reality the majority only want their vision of the childless perks on a temporary basis to suit their schedule. No loving parent wants to think about the life they may have had, if they’d not had children.
With all of these thoughts in mind, there is one point that instigated my putting pen to paper today. I have noticed a steady build up of pronatalism trying to eliminate our presence by encompassing the labels of childless and childfree into parenthood.
No longer do the words solely dictate those who chose not to have children and those who had no choice in the matter. A parent can now be childless or childfree for the day or weekend, as they share their delight at the children being with the other parent, grandparent or convenient childless aunt. Childless has suddenly become a word of positivity when adopted by parents. What a clever way to turn childless grief on its head and hide away the pain; twist it and embrace it as a positive in the parent’s world. Parents shout about the joys of being a parent and equally the joys of being childless.
Just to underline and reiterate everything I have said, I am not saying parenting is not hard and I am not saying I understand what it is like to be a parent. I am not saying that you don’t deserve time away from the kids to relax or party or do anything in between.
When I tell you I am childless I am sharing a part of my story; a part that represents a deep grief and a true love. I am sharing a really important part of who I am. I am not childless for the afternoon or the weekend, I am childless for the rest of my life.
What I am saying is please recognise your words, your actions and your pronatal interpretations can have consequences. Can create pain that is felt but often hidden away, becasue we don’t want to be seen as causing any unecessary awkwardness.
When you, as a parent, tell me you are childless, you are removing a part of my identity.
Stephanie Joy Phillips