This is a real Meg’s moan in. It comes from nowhere, will probably get a few people hysterical, but it’s been on my mind on and off for years and now I’m going to spew.
I am sick of psycho single mother syndrome. I say it from the incredibly clear place of not being single and not having children, so that’s my angle. I have chosen not to be a mother and I am beyond lucky to be in a happy, relatively healthy marriage.
I am generalising. Not ALL single mothers are like this, only the ones who are loud, rude and unashamed. These single mothers are so public about how hard it is for them. These single mothers sell themselves as currently disadvantaged. These single mothers want other (non single, non mother) people to do more, more often to help them and they can be both demanding, exhausting and relentless.
Now, I’m not saying that it isn’t impossibly hard to be a single mother. Surely it must be back breaking, heart breaking, relentless and often lonely. But do we have to hear about it all the time? Surely there must be some joy? Surely the people in a psycho single mother’s life are not there for the sole purpose of making it easier for the single mother to be a single mother? I have heard psycho single mother actors at auditions telling other auditioning candidates how badly they need the job to feed their children. You know what that’s like to hear before you go into the room to pretend to eat and love a biscuit while running on the beach? I have heard single mothers at parties (looking glamorously haggard) insist that their children who are “asleep” in the master bedroom of a semi-stranger’s house, get fed, entertained and managed by anyone they can say it loud enough to. I have read psycho single mothers blog in watery emotional turmoil about how hard it is. Psycho single mothers are forever tormented by the demon fathers of their offspring without a single glimpse of the irony that put them there. Mostly, these psycho single mothers act like they woke up one morning and these children had fallen down the chimney and their boyfriends had been abducted all at the same time, leaving them all by themselves, totally unprepared and entirely at the world’s mercy. However it happens, having children is a choice.
I have a message to the psycho single mother moaner blogger somebody. Get over it. Yes it’s hard, but it’s nobody else’s fault and nobody can fix it for you.
Before I get into real trouble here, I would like to salute and honour all the uncomplaining, real, getting on with it, beautiful single mothers who love their children, are proud of them and enjoy them. I love listening to them talk with glowing love and pride about their kids. I love seeing them in action as normal, functioning, maybe a little frazzled people. I love seeing their special bonds and quirky rituals as they play and live together. But mostly I love that I am not being asked to give them special treatment because of their ‘unfortunate circumstance’. I’m not asked to acknowledge them as super heroes. I don’t have to read endlessly about how they feel bringing up blah blah blah all on their own.
Happy Woman’s Day to 50% of the world’s population on Saturday, August 9.