Everyone has to play a variety of roles in life such as a child, student, employee or self employed, husband or wife, parent and grandparent. There are always conflicts as to what exactly we are in every stage. Always this question persists have we lost somewhere.
There are quite a number of people who think children hamper their professional progress having given birth to them, which is very unfortunate because they are doing great disservice to their children for whose sake they are actually earning and progressing in life.
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And on the plus side for the daughter, she gets to spend time on her grandparent's farm and form her own relationship with them. What a gift! This works out for all three generations.
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This essay really resonated with me, Sarah, and days later I'm still thinking about it. It's beautiful. Thank you for writing it. I just went back and re-read it and noticed all the comments and was so pleased that so many others were struck by it. Then I read them. A minority from people like me, and so many from people passing judgement on you. I really think the editors do a disservice to use when they allow comments at the bottom of stories. It sullies things. Keep writing and putting your truth out there and ignore the comments.
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I agree 100%. This was beautifully written and, for me, captured the vacillation between the various roles one plays, at times some more willingly than others. In life’s transitions some self/roles retreat, others move forward, and always we have to decide what to prioritize and at what cost. Thank you, thank you for capturing this in such poignant prose.
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Being fragmented didn’t bother me. In fact, I didn’t/don’t think of it as fragmented. It is merely what is as we tap into the many aspects of our personhood. I suppose before child bearing one is quite young and doesn’t realize this is life. I do feel sorry for the women who think they have disappeared when they have children. Subsuming ones own needs for the love and care of your child is important for character building and to understand the depth of love.
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I was hoping for something more deep than this. I do have 3yo twins and also work. I do agree there are many identities to being a mother. Perhaps this can’t be deeply explored in a short piece. I still like to read about motherhood. And also fatherhood.
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I wish that more non-news-reporting articles in the NYTimes would get to the point quicker, less of trying to read like a breezy magazine article (that advertisers prefer, because a good consumer is someone who considers reading passive entertainment). There is so much good, pithy material in the Times that I get weary of finding it mixed with SO MUCH airy writing suitable for dissociative reading on a commuter train.
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You are waking up. Love happens. Kids are born. Books get written. There is no solid concrete entity 'self'. Persistence of memory creates a sense of continuity with an illusory self experiencing it similar to persistence of vison creating a continuos movie with discrete images
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Two thoughts -- 1. You were lucky that you got to drop off your kid so soon and "pretended" to be single again, and 2. I can totally relate to your experience and thumbs up to the wise woman who said, “You’ll get your self back”. For me, my "self" returned when my youngest went to college. That's 20+ years of a lost "self". I am a happier person now compared to who I was before I had children. Now I know what I want to do and have the means to pay for it. I now weigh the same as I did before I had kids. Losing weight is just one of many ways I shed my motherhood. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids and I will always be a mother, but it's so good to not have to look after them every moment and be able to put myself first. Empty nest syndrome? What is that?
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Whay do you want, exactly?
What were you expecting?
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Is this really a thing? Surely this must be satire?
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Me, me, and me. Too many of your past English teachers have encouraged and promoted your me-vision. Don't despair, it's not your fault...there are many, many fellow travelers, all thinking about me, and being rewarded with big smiley faces drawn on their essays by Ms. Redpen, saying, "You GO girlfriend."
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@Ned scott It's her essay, dude. You want to express your opinion, submit one.
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I for one am looking forward to the day when we can have a comments section free from sanctimonious scolds who feel compelled to point out that the writer is “privileged.” Yeah, we got that. And I’m sure she gets that. It’s still a lovely essay.
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Yes. Thats all ok. May I reccomend you find ways to feel stronger rather than still drunk . Thats not an escape, to drink the night away, rather it is another problem. Who you are trying to fit in with? Can you hike with people you like instead of being 22 for a night? I get all of this, and it can be happier.
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Wow... all the comments berating this piece almost made me feel guilty for thinking it was beautiful, and yes, identifying with it, even if written by someone so different and with more privilege than I. That’s the way good writing works—right? Though I hear you other readers, the Times could strive for more diverse voices. I agree. But are we really to hate this piece for what it’s not?
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Oh my people really need to get over themselves. “Goodness me! Look at me! I’m living my life!” The only thing missing here is what she had for breakfast every day.
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I couldn't finish it. I just can't fathom a universe in which I identify or sympathize with the author.
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Beautiful piece!
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Why do people have to respond so nastily? If you want an essay about a more blue collar female experience, go write one or encourage someone you know to write one. Who produces this kind of work? Writers. And while everyone assumes these writers are upper middle class, there's nothing in her essay to suggest that. If she's traveling for work, she may be lucky enough that the cost is not coming out of her pocket. If she has parents who can help with child care, why does that make her a spoiled middle class woman? Most writers I know are eking out a living as best they can, they aren't sitting around eating bon-bons. And people's desires to punish the writer for having a beer on a work related trip is just sick. My guess is that she wrote about drinking beer because it happens far less often than she'd like.
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It's hard to feel much empathy for the author as she jaunts around from city to restaurant to hotel room- and fitting in a run, too! Why do we equate motherhood with the end of our former lives? Why do we feel such angst over a stage of life that is just that- life.
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You perfectly capture the challenges of being a mother AND still being a person with her own needs. Thank you for making me feel less alone on this challenging journey, and thank you for giving me a glimmer of hope that I can make my writing career happen.
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Thank you. I almost cried and I can't say why. Really. There is some deep reality there that you have touched on about mothering in this culture and this day and age. Those simple observations about how our selves keep being divided; they seem so simple, but are so laden with feeling.
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Yep, we experience multiple selves that we shed & salvage throughout our lives, if we're lucky to live a long life. This happens to people without and with children. To men and to women. To the privileged and those without time to write and reflect on harried lives.
So, mostly, this piece is at best a yawner for me.
I did find interesting that the author wondered if her "maternity" was hidden in that cafe, & if not, whether the young 20-somethings would think her "old" with a preclusion to "hipness" or merely "other."
Lady, lemme tell ya, there's no need to wonder. In the parlance of the very young, yes, you're tragically un-hip - you are old. Your kid being elsewhere can't hid the fact that you've left 30 behind. The fact that you're wondering if you might pass for some part of the scene is the tip off that you don't.
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It’s unfortunate that motherhood has become such a competitive sport, making many long for an escape from it. My mother, now 84 just went with where she was in life, not longing to be her earlier non-mom self, yet she had friends, worked, taught night school and was a dedicated mom and wife. She was free to enjoy all of it because she wasn’t comparing herself to others, she was just living. As a mom of 2 teenagers, I think of her when I catch myself buying into the best parenting nonsense. All I can say is relax and take your neurotic hat off, and just enjoy the ride, all of it- at the same time.
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@Regina
I wish that I was old enough for your mom! My ex was similar until she experienced mental breakdowns due to childhood sexual abuse. Before that, she was so active in our community that I was known as Mr. Lisa, the father of her four children. Stay-at-home moms wield more power than their husbands realize.
The scariest thing for me about becoming a mother was worrying whether or not I could “do it.” Could I parent? Could I love? Could I soothe? Could I feed? I worked on myself a lot when I was pregnant to become the mother I wanted to be. I think because of that and because I had children later in life, I do not share the author’s angst. However, I do not begrudge her for how she experiences life. I’m not sure why anyone else would either.
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I'm amazed by women (and men) who have children and then are so gosh darn struck by how it changes their lives. What resonated with me was that this essay was all about a 'mother' seemingly very focused on everything and anything not related to being a mother and who is clearly very scared of embracing the role of a mother as a 'self.' We, men and women, are all different 'selfs' throughout our lives. Not sure why it seems to be such a revelation to some.
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Good for you Sarah in making space for yourself. How else to become a better mother to your daughter? No matter how you spend your time, it's YOUR time. Taking care of young children can be a joy if you make other time for yourself. Yes there is tedium, repetition (how many times did I read The Little Engine that Could? While my lips were moving and my son's eyes were closing, it all seemed ok.
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Another unrelated article in the Times was about the lack of ferry captains. As I read then this piece about our ‘islands.’ I wondered who are our ferry captains that help us reach across to each space.
As a caregiver to a son who will always need caregiving, I need to keep that captain’s number as at times I lose who I am in the midst of caring for others.
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My mother - who died ten years ago at the age of 86 - graduated high school on a Friday afternoon and went to work on Monday morning - and continued to work until she was forced to retire close to the age of seventy --
We're waiting for the Times to publish a deep, introspective and warm-and-fuzzy profile of a woman like that --
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@Howard G
Try reading Tillie Olson (Olsen?). She wrote in the 1930's, probably not in the NYT, wish I had discovered her sooner! Your comment reminded me of the wisdom in her books. Thanks!
No description of the one mention of the word run. Multiple mentions of drinking.
She must be a different kind of parent athlete than the rest of us, who would trade, anytime, a night drunk on Tequila for a long ride, run, or swim.
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I’ve observed that often when the Times publishes a first person account written by a female focused on how she experiences her life, there invariably is the response by some of the readership that is focused on the writer, not the content of the piece. Typically, the writer is too-something, and (implicitly) not enough of something else.
I question the legitimacy of some readers’ assertions that the writer is thinking, feeling, over/under-privileged too much. I question the readers who feel entitled to criticize the writer rather than the substance of her writing, which, while I am not a mother, appreciates.
This is an essay written from one individual’s perspective. If you want the Times to publish one with a different perspective, make the time and write one yourself and submit it. I look forward to reading it!
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THANK YOU. All of the cruel comments indicate precisely why women feel conflicted. How dare we be honest.
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Sarah, please do what you can to ignore the critical comments here (me me me, overthinking, privilege, I’m-glad-I-did-things-right-unlike-you, etc.). They are exactly what sent me into an existential tailspin until my kids were at least 5. Mothers can do no right in this country, and it’s isolating enough without the kicks when you’re down.
Hang in there, it gets better, and you will come back. Solidarity, sister.
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Overthought, in my opinion.
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I've retired early (thank God for frugal living) to give back what my mom gave me: grandma as the "day-care" for the grandchildren.
Having discovered serial selves over the years, this essay feels to "me me me me me" to me. Growing, changing, gaining wisdom.... these are the things that make for serial selves. And giving that wisdom, and/or simply presence, to kids and grandkids is a reward beyond description.
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The empty nest is a marvelous, soul-healing experience. Space for quiet, memory, cultivation of new selves. Active motherhood, while all-consuming, doesn't last forever. Take heart.
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Beautiful writing but I had a difficult time overcoming the author’s privilege as a mother. She drops her kid off with grandparents? Has time to take a run? Vacations with her husband alone? No wonder she has islands of identity! Many mothers are simply marooned on an island of need.
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I remember the first time I went to the grocery store without my two children. They were 11 and 9 years old at the time (and could be left home alone for a few minutes). I kept saying “excuse us” as I winded my way through the crowded aisles. I was struck how I could be alone when it wasn’t a doctor’s appointment. But I was still the adult in charge of them, so I couldn’t let them go. Many of us have no islands, the children are present in our whole life.
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I really have to continue to urge NYT to widen its perspectives. Not everybody's life is about upper middle class identity and status angst. Some lives are about survival (without magnificent medical intervention) of self or children, about compassion toward people and animals who are very different from the self, about achievement that is about changing big things in the lives of millions of people who are not the self. I don't say there is no room for little perspectives on finding more of the self in a jumble of privilege; I just say, perhaps less of that.
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@Pamela
THANK YOU. I, too, feel that there is one relentless perspective in these opinion essays: The Concerns of the White, Upper Middle Class Mommy.
This has been the case for years.
The Times needs to recognize that there exist nonwhite women, single women, and women without financial stability.
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I AM an upper middle class white mom and I am tired of this stuff too.
Some thoughts about how I feel about my ideas about my emotions about mommyness, a reflection...
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@Lifelong Reader
Yes, but are they NYT readers and subscribers?
I find this article quite courageous in this country where motherhood is revered in a way that has always puzzled me since I came here from Europe.
This essay works as a welcome counterbalance to another article about motherhood published right here a few weeks ago where the author confessed to still find herself instinctively swaying when standing in line in order to soothe a baby that was long grown (that article was about seeing your youngest preparing to go to college!).
Yes being a parent changes you deeply but it should not steal you of who you are. Thank you to the author for describing with such candor the deep pleasure of being away from one's children - I hope that she won't be too much criticized for it.
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My physician mother juggled her roles as a career woman, wife, mother, friend, oldest sister, sister in law, neighbor, Ladies club member and much more. She is entering her 91st year and she is still mothering us, long distance. What has kept her grounded is her twice a day yoga meditation routine which helped her transition from one role to another during the peak of her career, with demands of growing children.
As a daughter and a mother of fully grown children who have flown (kinda) the nest, I have discovered for myself that it is not a separate yoga meditation routine that is required, but being present, at all times, is what is really needed. For any given task, even menial and mundane ones, being present, in full awareness, becomes a magical experience. It is as though the universe is the one experiencing everything I do, through me. When I prostrate, kneel and bow in prayers, I dedicate those acts to all the people in the world who are unable to do those prostrations, because of physical disability, its as though I am doing it on their behalf. When I see beauty in nature I offer my vision to the universe, look how beautiful you made everything.
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@Petey Tonei. I was also reading "self" as "role". They are different ways of talking about the ways we modify our behavior in different contexts.
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Yes, those self absorbed fragmented "selves" are an illusion.
Be Here Now.
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I am going through the same thing. I realized my identity needed to be reformed into one that included motherhood. I remember thinking to myself: “I used to like strawberries... I wonder if I still like strawberries?” It was such a small thing but it was the moment I realized every part of my identity was being put back together in a new way.
New mothers can go through a mourning period when this happens — the loss of the old self. It’s great to share this experience so others know the feeling is normal.
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@Catherine
This reminded me that when my children were little, one day my high school students (I'm a teacher) asked what type of music I listened to. I don't remember how I answered them, but I remember thinking that for years, I only listened to Barney, Mr. Rogers, Sesame Street...
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The author mentioned having taking a run but mentioned it in only one, short phrase... That was what I was most interested in!!! :)
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As a mother of adult children this phenomena of multiple selves is even more apparent. I had raised my sons, I had been in theater, I had been in publishing. I am at a point when memory accounts for most of my life. Who knows what’s to come?
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This is exquisite. As another writer/runner/mother hybrid, thank you.
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Sometimes we just think too much.
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@Julie Zuckman's
Or not enough.
A beautiful piece that captures the changing of self during motherhood;but as someone pointed out to the author, we get our "selves" back and we are indeed stronger and richer for the experiences we've had.
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It’s easier to see time as a continuum than space.
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