E. Cobham Brewer 1810–1897. Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. 1898.
My question is this: why does it seem like such a either-or choice? If I am a cigar-smoking, knickerbocker-wearing Wild Woman, does that mean I cannot also want to nurture a home, cook on the hearth and love my family?
Today I am frustrated with this choice. I am all of these - the woman in the street, the angry beehive and the nourishing mother. For me, integrity is paramount in life. How do I go about integrating all these aspects of the woman I am, when even my own 'brain' tut-tuts at my desire to remain true to all aspects of my being?
This morning, I sat in a hospital room and was spoken at by a sharp-dressed man who prescribed me a drug to over-stimulate my ovaries, because for some reason, they are no longer working. When I tried to tell him about some of the difficulties I have had these last years, and the problems following my last failed pregnancy, he didn't look up. He continued to write his prescription and told me I could not blame the doctor for not noticing I was carrying around the debris of this pregnancy for 3 months - an oversight which led to infection and scarring. I wanted to shout at him that I bloody well did blame the doctor and why the hell was no one listening to me describe my own body. Instead, I burst into tears.
I burst into tears because deep down, I very much want to have a child, yet when I lost the last one, something inside me whispered "silly woman, to think you could have that life". It whispered it because part of my mind actually believes the bullshit, that I have to be a 'different kind of woman' to be a mother - not a wild woman, not a poet, not a free-wheeling dreamer. That to be a 'mother' means to be a 'good woman' who is quiet and dutiful and stays at home. That if I want to be A Mother, I have to give up being a poet.
I am Wild Woman. I am Blissfool. I am a Lover. I don't want their drugs. I just want to embrace who I am and hope one day that I can also say "I am Mother".
Meanwhile, I have to go change into my knickerbockers . I am off to cheer on my good friend and fellow screaming orator, Gill Hands, as she performs poetry as part of the Apples & Snakes UK Exposed Tour. Now, wear did I leave that cigar?
Today I am frustrated with this choice. I am all of these - the woman in the street, the angry beehive and the nourishing mother. For me, integrity is paramount in life. How do I go about integrating all these aspects of the woman I am, when even my own 'brain' tut-tuts at my desire to remain true to all aspects of my being?
This morning, I sat in a hospital room and was spoken at by a sharp-dressed man who prescribed me a drug to over-stimulate my ovaries, because for some reason, they are no longer working. When I tried to tell him about some of the difficulties I have had these last years, and the problems following my last failed pregnancy, he didn't look up. He continued to write his prescription and told me I could not blame the doctor for not noticing I was carrying around the debris of this pregnancy for 3 months - an oversight which led to infection and scarring. I wanted to shout at him that I bloody well did blame the doctor and why the hell was no one listening to me describe my own body. Instead, I burst into tears.
I burst into tears because deep down, I very much want to have a child, yet when I lost the last one, something inside me whispered "silly woman, to think you could have that life". It whispered it because part of my mind actually believes the bullshit, that I have to be a 'different kind of woman' to be a mother - not a wild woman, not a poet, not a free-wheeling dreamer. That to be a 'mother' means to be a 'good woman' who is quiet and dutiful and stays at home. That if I want to be A Mother, I have to give up being a poet.
Plath tried it. Sexton tried it.
How many more?
How many more?
I am Wild Woman. I am Blissfool. I am a Lover. I don't want their drugs. I just want to embrace who I am and hope one day that I can also say "I am Mother".
Meanwhile, I have to go change into my knickerbockers . I am off to cheer on my good friend and fellow screaming orator, Gill Hands, as she performs poetry as part of the Apples & Snakes UK Exposed Tour. Now, wear did I leave that cigar?
3 comments:
Vik you will be a fantastic mother and a poet. You can be both, we don't have to buy into that stupid myth anymore. Love to you.
Hi Vic, having never had a mother since the age of five I can tell you everything a child wants a mother to be ! being a mother of three now, I can tell you without a doubt that all that matters is the ability to LOVE them and be true to yourself, and in seeing that they are in turn true to themselves. Which is what we all want for our kids. You will be a WONDERFUL mother!!!
I agree with Gill - all that stuff is bollocks and we don't need it any more. Plenty of women are managing to be both mothers and poets without feeling the need to kill themselves - for example what about ME and GILL and Sharon Olds - re-read her `Languauge of the Brag'. Being a mother is wild and dangerous and exhilarating and doesn't have anything to do with being a good little girl - at times you need to be a tigress! In fact it is probably the most poetic thing one can ever do. You will be a wonderful mother Vik - GO FOR IT.
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