More than ever, I'm more conscious of the way motherhood is shoved down our throats, or at the least expected, since childhood. I dove into the subject in my Hong Kong post; I am uncertain if motherhood is something for me. Whether or not this is a rebellious reaction to the status quo or a genuine sentiment doesn't really matter right now. My best friend on the other hand, is a little more confident with (and almost known for) not wanting to have kids (though she accepts the fact that her opinion might change and that's okay). We've had a few conversations on the matter and while browsing books at Barnes and Noble, she picked up a book called "Selfish, Shallow, and Self Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids."
She handed it to me after dinner on Sunday night since knowing I'd enjoy it. Because of the near end of the semester (and guilt over other half read books) I haven't had a chance to get well into it. But tonight I finally had the chance (I'm procrastinating, go figure) to read the first of the essays. It is titled Babes in the Woods (click to read) by Courtney Hodell, a succesful literary editor and aunt 😉. Maybe it's because I haven't read this style in a while, but I thought the whole essay was so well put together and entertaining. I really admired her writing and it reminded me that it's something I used to really wish I could do (and do now but sparingly). It also didn't help that it was an auto ethnography which would be my first choice of writing form if possible. The succesful, independent, intelligent woman vibe (none of which have anything to do with her childfree decision) and me peeking at her Instagram made me nostalgic for my teenage day dreams of that white woman chic city lifestyle (which let's be real is far from my couch potato style). It honestly makes me laugh out loud, but you know those were more innocent times. Digging a little into my subconscious, it's evident my current aspirations (?) have a foundation in that mindset but they are 100% more grounded and my brain is not 16 anymore (though you could probably argue 22 is no better).
But yeah, when you first read the into paragraph you probably thought I was going to get deep into or rant about the childfree argument. I might after I finish the book, but for now this is a space for me to grieve my past innocent dreams 👼🏾. Fin.