An Unexceptional Blog

My husband and I once had a conversation about dreams. “What’s your dream?” I asked him. “A homestead, some solar panels, a huge garden, a job that I enjoy but allows me to funnel most of my energy into my family… and another motorcycle,” he replied. “What about you?” he added. It took me a moment to realize it, but once I did, tears welled in my eyes. All I ever dreamed about was being a mom. When I was young, that was all I looked forward to. Isn’t it a little sad, when you think about it? My whole dream, for all of my life, was to procreate, just as was expected of me, and expected of countless women before me. Did I never allow myself to dream a little bigger? Or at least a little beyond? What did I suppose would happen to me, once the children were born and contributing citizens of this society? “I guess my dream is already done…” I eventually said, tears streaming. 

Before I keep going, dear reader, I want to make three things clear. One, being a mom is a huge job. Trust me, I know. I know the struggle, the mental load, the invisible labour, all of it. Taking on the role of mother is a staggering responsibility. Two, being a stay-at-home mom is a valid and entirely fulfilling choice, though it is not the choice that everyone makes, which is also equally valid. And three, in case there is any doubt, I love being a mother. I love my family with every fibre of my being; my daughters are my world.

I call myself a feminist. I believe I am. But when you look at me, and the choices I’ve made, am I not the representation of what feminists wish to abolish? The homemaker, the mother, the wife, who sews, mends, cooks, cleans, and dotes on her husband; I fit exactly into the mold placed before me by the patriarchy. 

I struggle with the fact that I am not actually certain that my dream — of becoming a mother — was my own from the start. Did I choose this dream? Or did I just follow the footsteps laid before me by a society that benefits my pumping out a few babies? No matter how much I twist my brain into thinking about alternate universes where different choices would have been made and the different futures that might have resulted from these, I don’t think I will ever know if this dream was really my own. This is incredibly unsteady ground on which to stand, indeed. 

My husband brought me out of this spiral with a gentle touch. “Maybe you don’t know how much of your decisions were made freely and how many might have been influenced by the world in which you were brought up, and, maybe knowing any of it with any kind of certainty is going to be difficult, but,” he paused, with a kiss, “our daughters will know.”

Yes, my daughters will know that there is no limit to what they want to become. I always make a point of saying “if you decide to have a family” as opposed to the “when” which was told me. I talk about relationships with all gender/sexual identities. I encourage their insatiable curiosity about the world and everything in it. I focus my conversations with them on what they, themselves, want in life, and encourage them to never lose sight of it. I remind them that they are so much more than their bodies, despite corporations and medias trying to tell them otherwise (more on this in this post). I encourage them to dream as big, as far, and as extravagantly as they can.

As for myself, I am actively working on determining a new dream, now that I’ve realized that the one I had is “done.” In my youth, before I truly understood the forces of the society that were shaping me, I never thought this far. The future was just “and they lived happily ever after” without having a clear image of what this was. Standing today on this blank slate can be liberating in a way: I’ve done what was expected of me, now let me show them something they will not expect. I am discovering new passions and pushing myself to keep learning new skills. I fully and gleefully give in to minor obsessions which perhaps, as a young girl, could have led me on a different path or career. And, I am following a passion I’ve long held: I am writing, and you, dear reader, are reading, and that is a dream in the works right there.