The other day, I wrote a really honest post about the exhausting hardness that is being a parent to two small children and trying to do just about anything else. I was feeling incompetent at life, and because I’m a writer, because literally that is who I am, because even the code of my DNA probably spells words, the way I worked out those feelings was to write them. And cry.
And then something amazing happened: that post got (as of this writing) 21 amazing comments. And on Facebook, where I also shared it, I got 12 other amazing comments, plus a couple of supportive private messages. And the support continued on Twitter. And this morning, a lovely friend took the time to send me an email that warmed my heart and brought tears to my eyes. While one commenter called me a downer, every single other woman who commented did two things: they affirmed that my feelings were normal and OK, and they assured me, things do get better. Time passes. Nothing stays the same. It was an amazing experience of the best of the internet and its power to bring us together and let us know we are not alone. I am beyond grateful. Today, even though I’m home, still in my pjs at 3 pm with two sick babies who have croup and are just beyond pitiful, my heart is lighter. And I feel strong and confident.
Buoyed by this love and more than a little indignant at the downer comment, I posted this on Facebook:
And while I’m actually kind of proud of that line and think it really says it all, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what it means to be a woman, a mother, and a writer, and what it means to put my heart out into the world through my words, and I’ve found (shock me shock me) that I still have some more to say.
Despite a comment that would minimize and silence my giving voice to my experiences with the more painful side of motherhood, I will not be minimized and silenced. Tellingly, that comment, the only one that wasn’t encouraging in some way, came from a man. I’m taking a course on women writers this term, and over and over in the works I’ve studied, women writers depict women writers with men in their lives who don’t understand why they can’t just be content, grateful even, with their lives as wives and mothers. Why they feel a yearning for more, why they simply must write. Any woman who, like me, attempts to express anything but sweetness and light concerning motherhood feels the need to qualify it with caveats about how much they really do love their children, husbands, and homes, for fear of being criticized by a society that constantly tells us to be grateful and enjoy every moment.
All that does is leave you feeling guilty when you inevitably fail to live up to that standard.
Based on the love that was poured out to me when I poured out my heart, I have to say: it is worth that risk. Because when you pour out your heart, you invite others to do the same, and they will, and you will feel less alone. The great Flannery O’Connor wrote in one of her letters: “In the face of anyone’s experience, someone like myself who has had almost no experience, must be humble.” We don’t get to tell other people how to understand, frame, or feel about their experience. But we can let them know that they’re not alone in having it.
I’m so thankful to all the folks who let me know that I’m not alone this week or in this life. You have been a model for how I hope to respond the next time the shoe is on the other foot and someone opens themselves up.
9 Replies to “the wonder of opening up”
And this, friends, is why we write. Well said, Sarah.
Sing it, sister.
This is spectacular and well said. A friend of mine posted this link of Facebook and, as I writer and a lady, I am glad I clicked over to see what you had to say. Nice meeting you :)
An this is what women do!
The Internet is full of good people, you being one of them too.
My favorite comment was from Patrick Houston. He seems like a guy worth knowing.
Thank you for writing what you do. Those of us who aren’t writers find inspiration and camaraderie through your words.
It is hard, to admit that it’s not always easy whilst not wanting to appear ungrateful or pessimistic- the reality of life is that it’s hard, and I find it encouraging when people are honest and open about struggling. I always look forward to reading your posts too. I can’t imagine how you do it with twins, I find it hard with just one girlie to deal with! I just spent half an hour trying to get her back to sleep after she only napped for half an hour, but now she’s playing happily by herself.
I love that writing helps express, helps process and like you, it’s something I just have to do a lot of the time!
Flannery O’Connor and Eudora Welty are two of my idols. They were women who didn’t take no for an answer when it came to pushing the envelope on what women should or shouldn’t do. I’m glad to find a kindred heart in that.
Sometimes I think it would be easier if I were stupid, content with being a dumb dyed blond housewife who rested all her faith in everything in her life in some unknown power outside of herself, be it God or her husband, or both.
Then I remember that’s no life for me. And wonder if those women really exist the way the present themselves or if they share these feelings we both have.
Your words put it exactly how I feel!! You are not alone I have been there too.
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