Islands. A group of them together. They're not alone, but they are separate. Each has its own landscape, its own view of the sunrise. Perhaps each even has its own inidigenous people with imperceptibly different dialects from the that of the other indigenous people on the other islands nearby. But I am not part of an archipelago. I am a boat that continuously and monotonously circles the islands. My identity is only in relation to the position of my orbit. Because I am a mother and being a mother is my only career.
I am a classic case of Betty Friedan's problem that has no name. I can name all of the things that are not the problem: being a wife, being a mother, staying at home, cleaning house, perparing meals, organizing playdates, reading stroybooks, volunteering at the elementary school. Yet, I am unfulfilled. In The Feminine Mystique, Friedan concludes her first chapter as follows: "We can no longer ignore that voice within women that says: 'I want something more than my husband and my children and my home.'" And I do.
Friedan, writing in the 50's and 60's, suggested that women solve the unnameable problem by continuing on with higher education to obtain worthy careers, not just part-time secretarial work. She is credited with sparking second-wave feminism. And since her time, the ideals of femininity have changed in many positive ways, opening up all sorts of opportunities for women. However, her solution cannot apply to me.
First, I have a college education. I would actually argue that having an education furthers the complexity of the problem that has no name. The more of my potential I realize to exist, the more I'm aware of how far I'm falling short. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Second, having a career at this time in my life is not an option. In the face of a society that doesn't care at all about what I do everyday as a stay-at-home mom, I find immense value in what I do, as boring and mind numbing as it is. I often wonder whether the problem that has no name wouldn't be resolved completely were society to truly value women who do what I do, but as time marches on, society seems to care less and less about the family as an institution so I won't be holding my breath in anticipation. I wish that the value I see in my own work would somehow make that work fulfilling, but it doesn't. I am still not part of the archipelago.
So, what am I to do? After a lengthy and meaningful discussion with my husband, I came up with a plan to form my own, new identity while continuing in my chosen occupation.
1. I will do something I want to do everyday. Right now, this thing happens to be posting to this blog. Once necessary tasks are completed for the day (and I mean *necessary*), I focus solely on the want. It's interrupted multiple times with my children's needs, of course, but I don't give up on it until it's done.
2. I will not worry about whether or not my house is clean. This is not to say that I will not clean my house. In no way will I be transferring any of my own workload onto the income provider of the family. I will do everything I always do, but in my own good time. If I don't feel like doing the laundry and the laundry can wait until tomorrow, it will. If I need a nap, the crumbs on the floor and the piles of toys will stay. It sounds very simple, but before I made this conscious choice to care less, I was constantly beating myself up for being 'lazy' and not getting things done when reality was that my expectations of myself, my resentment for the chores that were sucking away my life, and my guilt over putting things off were paralyzing me from getting anything done to begin with.
3. I will figure out what it is that I want. Because I don't have to worry about making money, I have the unique opportunity to go back to school or take unpaid internships or do volunteer work in pursuit of a career I would like to have when my children are older. I can literally do anything I want. I just have to figure out what that is. Spending more time thinking about the future will ease the painful boredom of the present. I don't believe in living in the moment when the moment makes me want to take five bottles of pills, lie down in a full bath, and slit my femoral artery.
I'm on Day 2 of the plan. I have no idea whether or not it will be successful. Guess we'll find out together.
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