Today I read the kind of article that would have made me twitchy a while ago. It was Rebecca Adlington, talking about how becoming a mother has massively changed her:
‘I loved my life before, but I love being a mum even more. It is the best thing in the entire world. There’s nothing you can compare it to. I’d choose being a mum over my four Olympic medals any day of the week.’
Such lines are common in celebrity interviews: I used to scan for them, and skip reading. I’ve heard similar statements in real life, from colleagues congratulating expectant parents:
‘You’ll realise now that nothing else matters’
and
‘It’s the only thing that counts in life!’
At the time I took these pronouncements literally and was righteously offended: who would say such things to a room full of diverse individuals, who would discount entire lives in one sweep?
(The forty-six-year-old administrator, single, making a convincing show of looking delighted; the gay researcher, wondering if ‘nothing else counts‘ includes her PhD; and me, newly diagnosed with stage four endometriosis.)
Was it not as bad as claiming that ‘life isn’t worth living if you’re not married’, for example?
But these comments are just personal opinions, dressed up as universal truths. Why should we care?
It’s taken me years to be dispassionate when someone makes these nothing else matters proclamations to my face, though.
Personal convictions about major life choices that are stated as facts can provoke ire and defensiveness in anybody, but none seem to be as inflammatory as those about reproducing.
Having kids, not having kids: these are life-long commitments in most cases – either way, there is usually no going back; you can neither return your children, nor easily obtain some once you reach a certain age. It’s not surprising that parents and non-parents are constantly piqued by the other side: it represents The Great Not Knowing.
Which is where assumptions step in, to fill the gaps. It is truly hard not to compare your situation to someone else’s when they gush profusely; it’s easy to wonder if their rhapsodies are true for everyone, all the time.
The only truth here is that the clichés about comparison are accurate: it will destroy you, and define you, and it will usually tell you that you aren’t enough.
How to stop comparing, then – does it just come naturally with time? Is anyone completely inured to such statements, taking them with a pinch of salt, as they should be taken?
Myself, I dunno: it comes and goes.
Comparison is the thief of joy. I tell myself this a million time a day. Do your thing.
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Such a good expression.
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This is a difficult question to answer. I try not to compare. I try really hard. But sometimes it seems impossible.
One thing I know for sure is that comments like this aren’t as hard for me as they used to be. I guess I can sort of recognize that they don’t have a f***ing clue and not let it get to me.
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Ha BnB I love your responses. Yes, I’ve noticed that I’ve stopped registering the comments. Now they just remind me of how much they used to annoy me. Must be the bullshit-o-meter that works better the older you get. It seemed to happen quite suddenly & definitely coincided with starting writing about this stuff, funnily enough.
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So very thought provoking. I, too, ruminate on roads not taken quite often, so I really appreciate the aspect of The Great Not Knowing.
As for comparing, I wonder if humans are hard-wired to do so. I’ve been practicing yoga for 10 years now, which means I’ve been trying to train myself not to compare my own asanas with others. BUT I STILL DO. I’m doing better than her, but not as well as him — the running chatter in my head sometimes. But also, I’m trying to be gentle with myself 🙂
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I think you’re right: we are hard-wired to do it. It helps to know everyone does it!
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//these comments are just personal opinions, dressed up as universal truths//
So true.
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I just roll my eyes when I hear celebrities say this. If someone said it in front of me, I might have a different reaction. I don’t know whether I’d feel hurt, argue, or just point out how inappropriate it is to say things like that.
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I hear comparison statements a lot — always applied to something happening in their life. Sometimes it’s also happening in mine. Usually it’s not. But I always assume the person is talking about their own life — it’s best thing… to them.
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I like that – best for them, best for the kind of person they are. Not for me necessarily.
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I definitely think we as humans are wired to compare and it’s so difficult not to compare. That said, I think if people would start off some of their proclamations with “I think” or “I feel”, many times their words of how something is best, would be seen as their view point and not absolute. However, some things will always rub the wrong way no matter how they are said.
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You’re so right – instead of just presenting them as statements…
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As a mother who’s been through infertility, frankly, I sometimes find it to be too much too when people make that general proclamation. Sometimes (especially from celebrities in magazines: “We’re ‘over the moon’ being with the kids all day.”) i think it’s just the politically correct thing to say. “kids come first in our lives” “They’re the most important part of my life” “I’ve become a better person because of them”. Kids are wonderful and amazing but people often say what they think they’re supposed to… especially nowadays with social media.
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Hiya thanks for your comment. I also think they’re kind of ‘expected’ statements, almost cliches maybe – maybe the speaker just wants to believe it! Pondering over this and hearing people’s opinions really helps in seeing these proclamations as what they really are: just things that people say, nothing more.
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I hate those statements so much, if only because they are meant to exclude. It’s not the comparison as much as the “you can’t possibly know how this feels until you’re here” statement. I was listening to NPR a while ago and heard the hoopla about how the one British Prime Minister candidate stated she’d be better than the other candidate (also a woman) because she had children and therefore a stake in the country’s future, and the other candidate did not have children (and so couldn’t possibly care quite as much?!?!?). It made me so happy when the childfree candidate won. I loved what you said about it amounting to the same as “life doesn’t mean as much if you’re not married.” Who would ever say that? And so why is it okay to make the same statement for motherhood? Sometimes I can shrug these off, and sometimes they pile up until I can’t ignore it anymore. Wonderful, thought-provoking post.
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Thanks so much for your comment. It does exclude, you’re right: it puts a massive chasm between the person saying it and anyone in the vicinity who is different. Years later I still can’t say hello properly to the woman who came into my office and said to preg colleague ‘nothing else matters – not your job, not your holidays, not your house, nothing…’ whilst sagely shaking her head…..!
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That’s actually a very bad mindset. I am not a parent, but I am the daughter of a parent who thought that way, and it’s not as positive as it sounds. My mother had a very hard time when I began to grow from being a totally helpless little person. Growing up was not fun and I sometimes wonder if a lot of parents forget their children are not small forever. It took my mother a long time to figure out what to do with herself when her two children were no longer children.
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I’ve met a few who live vicariously through their kids; not a good state to get into at all.
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Who can name a universal truth for all walks of life? I will never understand that. If life “with kids” was the be-all-and-end-all then I wouldn’t be sitting here, binge-reading your blog. And now I might be late for work…
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