So, this weekend I’m doing something special, something that I rarely do nowadays and something I really cherish… I’m going out dancing. No, not hens-night 80's, or aussie rock tribute... I’m opting for the old-school, dance your pants off for 9 hours, reach-for-the-lasers kind of dancing.
Some people just roll their eyes at this sort of behaviour and move on.
But many others prefer to very quickly file me away in the (Dum Dum Dum) ‘Bad Parent Corner’ (it looks a lot like the naughty corner but it thankfully comes with a well stocked bar fridge).
Now, just for the record, I’m not strapping glowsticks to my toddler’s stroller and parking him in front of the sub-woofer. I am very sensibly leaving him at home with a grown adult to take care of him for the night.
My question is, when you become a mother, why do other mothers expect you to lose your identity and begin a strange competitive struggle of who is less perfect?
I unfortunately missed out on the hormone surge that provides women with the ability to cook a wholesome 4 course meal whilst crocheting a place mat. That hormone surge also didn’t wipe out every element of my personality and replace it with that of a Stepford Wife.
Most people have a Thing right? A Thing that is an integral part of your make-up, something that makes you feel complete and whole and makes you ‘You’.
For some people it might be building model airplanes, some riding a motorbike, some growing vegetables. What’s yours? (nothing illegal thank you)
Well mine is trance music. I make it, I collect it, I share it, I dance to it, I live by it, I love it.
This is a Thing that courses through your veins, it means the world to you, it connects you, it is part of you, and its meaning transcends almost everything else on this world for you (yes, yes yes, my child does come first!). Some people don’t get it, and that I totally understand, but every person should respect it, and nobody has the right to condemn it.
Women give up so much of themselves when they become mothers. The priority list often goes something like this: Children and family always come first. Work second. Cooking nutritious yet tasty meals third. Playdates, gymberoo, dance, junior soccer, all come in a close fourth. Housework next. Your own friends end up low. Hobbies are even lower, and time to look after yourself definitely last – I couldn’t count the times I’ve been forced to wear jeans in summer because I’ve had no time to attend to the scariness growing on my legs!
So come on people – be happy for anyone who has a Thing and has snuck a moment to enjoy it, something that makes them so utterly alive, complete, and ridiculously happy inside, whatever it may be. It’s what makes us all unique, and what makes you You, and me Me.
Parenting isn’t a competition, and having a passion such as this doesn’t make me love and care for my family any less. In fact, being a happier person gives me the ability to love a whole lot more.
*No children were harmed in the writing of this column.
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